Embers fall off a fire

Onto my worn down coat

It doesn't matter anyway
For I just want to watch the smoke

Fly up high into the sky

Where it'll dance with the stars

Get lost in the night wind,
Just like our memoirs

Time moves by with the fireflies

Mingling about through the night

One day I'll find that we'll all die

And you don’t know,
what they say about my soul.

“Far am I

From the edge, gone by”

But they don’t know.

Of the earth that falls,

Hanging like the *****,

In the night sky.

Is it time to say goodbye?

Time to fly.

Do you mourn the tree of the apple?

Will you bury the vines of the grape?

With every seed you eat,
Will you remember the mother's mistake?

Dug deep are the roots.

Of the old childless Eden.

But there are no sugars left,

For your miscarried fruits.

Do you water the dead plants?

Will you bury the mulberry bush?

With every pome you swallow
Will you remember that fateful push?

In the woods, I saw him once
Through the trees, the branches crunched

My basket warm, with gifts to spare

He took it all, left standing there.

There was no ax,
No take backs,

There was no peace,
No songs to keep

Oh, his ears,
Oh, his teeth

Stalking me, to my granny

Till he went in too deep,
Lost his feet.

The only other way, gone
is down.

Tell me about your painting
how it adorns your skin,
call it art,
as your flesh rips apart,
the blood soon sinks in.

Tell me about the constellations,
about the ripples in the waves.
Let my finger trace your arms
gently,
guiding through the stars
as you turn your face away.

Let the night be one,
together we can be as dark as the setting sun.
Let me kiss my lips, to your scars
memories flow jaggedly, afar.

I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.