There once was a dragon
Who lost her identity
Being caged with too many names
She found her true nature
When she remembered her fire
And warmed herself with her flames
She had such strength in fury
Such gentleness in beauty
But it never felt quite enough
Because as she felt herself grow
Her cage also grow bigger
But the door always remained shut
Though she could melt the bars
Burst forth from her prison
And finally set herself free
She grew fearful of all
That may be waiting outside
And all she could possibly be

The future is always unknown.
Every twist. Every turn.
Capable of striking fear of what may be waiting.
What if the road ends? Where will I find myself?
What if I’ve gone too far to remember the way home?
But every present moment is a step toward an uncertain future.
Each decision. Each breathe. Each word.
Leading us somewhere we aren’t sure we’re prepared for.
And we never could or ever will be.
We only have this moment. Right now.
We have time to err. Time to explore.
Time to see what is without the fear of what might be.
Waiting never made clear an uncertain path.
It only gives us doubt of every direction.
Forging a future doesn’t always carve a straight road.
But the journey of the here and now.
The immediacy of the life we can see.
That makes the living worth while.

signal fires
blazing beacons
communicating truth
unexpected and awaited
wordless stories
burning bright
undeniable intent
blazes of light
set against pitch black
traversing the expanse
fleeting flames
glowing embers
ever-present warmth

It’s exhausting
The running and hiding
The chasing and seeking
Like kids in green fields
With nothing better to do
We know games never truly end
They only start again
And again
And again
In an endless cycle
With no sense of where
It began or ever might finish
Close calls, dodging glances
Following rules and bending them
But never breaking them
Endlessly playing the game
For the sake of playing
Better than nothing
Worse than anything
Determined to be child-like
Following the instructions of others
Disciplined in obeying the rules
Until we aren’t
Or can’t, anymore

Chest tight
Heart racing
Breath shallow
Always the same
Crashing waves of thought
A sea of hysteria
Paranoia
Regret
Shame
Swirling dark waters
Drowning who I want to be
Plunging me deeper
Surely to be washed up
On some shore with waning waters
Stranded
Spit out among the rocks
Bleeding and battered
Terrified of living
Alone
Forced to wait
For the rising tides
Again

Your eyes will always touch me
In a way that I know your hands never will
And now the distance cuts me
So I’m begging for scars so I’ll know I can heal

These open wounds needs closure
But it’s the bleeding that reminds me I’m alive
Whatever this is it’s torture
I want to see you, but can’t bare to be by your side

I love to think that you still think of us
So I’m not the only one that’s still in love

The things you say and the things you left unsaid
**** with my head
We’re perfect strangers and we’re still the best of friends
Just makes no sense
I have to believe I knew you
That I could close my eyes and see right through you
Just tell me once I was the only one
And tell me how to live now that it’s done

Past and present swirl around me
Thoughts of all I’ve done and where it might have led
Love and hate, anger and grief
Storming emotions only force me to see red

Eyes so green, memories so blue
Yellow days gave way to grey nights full of foolish truth
Winter revealed the fire in you
I got caught in the flames thinking I was fireproof

I love to think that you still think of us
So I’m not the only one that’s still in love

The things you say and the things you left unsaid
**** with my head
We’re perfect strangers and we’re still the best of friends
Just makes no sense
I have to believe I knew you
That I could close my eyes and see right through you
Just tell me once I was the only one
And tell me how to live now that it’s done

Most people live one life
But somehow I live two
One that’s here and one that’s there
But neither seem to do
For what I truly long for
Is something that can’t be
A life of easy living
And a life where I am free
Free to follow voices,
Seek both chaos and order
And free to learn some choices
Soon give way to ******
Because every decision
Brings death to a path
Where a choice was not made
That road is met with wrath
Wrath that devours the future
Of what might have been
And leaves in its wake
A regret that will not bend
That will not break or crumble,
Nor become easier to bare
But will always be my burden
On my journey here or there

As my eyes close
Words shine bright
Like beacons in my mind
Signaling the end
Of my dream to sleep
Awakening the nightmare
Of strands of thought
Looping and tangled
Unceasing it seems
Bound to run
In my stillness
Racing toward rest
Chased by wonderings
Relentless in their pursuit

Unfinished journeys plague me still
Reminding me of who I was
But also who I could not be
There was a path to that me once
Discovered among the bramble
And beautiful flowers throughout
Lying in wait among the thorns
Lions with brightly-petaled manes
So I dared to venture inward
Drawn further by their splendidness
Head swimming with lovey music
Yet the chimera soon faded
The once vibrant colors dulling
Speckles of crimson strewn about
For the barbs had pierced all the while
Laid waste by the driving desire
Retreating with my gaze still fixed
Or more so forced away at once
With scars baring glorious pain
Never to trust my heart or mind
Nor return to what once was me

My heart pounds in my ears
The only thing I hear
Are the words that my brain
Won’t dare let my mouth say
And nobody wants to hear
The fear in my voice
Or about my choice to not
Say anything at all
Because seeing someone
Not care about what I’ve done
Or what I’ve become
Could be worse
Worse than the curse
Of the curses in my head
That both tell me that
This is all it will ever be
It will be pain
Full of pain
Not light and momentary
But unbearable and unceasing
Evident in every day and night
The light warning of the darkness
That is sure to follow
And the darkness reaching deep
With bared teeth into
Bones hollow from sorrow
And the eating away
Of silent words
And pounding ears

A piqued sweater
A constant reminder of a snag in the design.
A moment unexpected.
A pull too strong for comfort,
but not so strong to tear the fabric
away from its intended purpose.  
Leaving less of a mark of the memory
and more of a reminder of what could be.
A warning of frivolity and reckless abandon,
or at least the consequences of such.
Not unrepairable. Not to be discarded.
Simply to be well-worn.
To be cautious of being caught.
To be lived in arms crossed, if need be.
To live in the present,
afraid of the future, or something akin,
and aware of the past. Unfading.
Aware of the thread so easily tugged
into the pattern of unraveling.