passion burning in her veins
licking at her heels
as she chases a lost love
across the barren land.

rage ignites in her
burning bright a flame
that cannot be quelled
despite the way
you try, you try, you try

Was it you, who burned a city
At my fingertips?
I’ll blame it
On the rampaging fire wildflowers
Suffocating California.
Either way, I cannot breathe.

What haunts me?
It’s you, isn’t it.
The 12-33, code 12-56,
No help is coming,
“Refusal to comply” morphs to “missing persons,” reporting
The silence.
The screech, the blip
Of a scanner, seeing red,
Like I could hear the pain
Of a few thousand shaken children
Who lost
Their mothers
To a cloud of noxious smoke.

That’s what haunts me.
Isn’t it.
Children, charred and homeless,
Roaming crumbling streets.

That’s what haunts me.

That consuming burn
in the middle of your heart,
constantly reminding you
of a mortal life
that was once so distant
but equally clear.

Works as gasoline
for all human beings
and it's called LOVE.

"red pants
burning bottom
soft cream prescription."

"pantalonasi rosii foc
dos colorat
prescriem crema."

"les pantalons rouges
quel bel cul ardent
douce creme prescrite."

I can no longer relate to the vengeful breakup songs on the radio.
But I can’t relate to the ones about love.
So what am I related to?
In the movies, when two people go spinning apart,
they always come back together in a crescendo
and a last kiss,
before the screen goes black.
But we didn’t get that.
I didn’t run in a baby blue dress to your door
at the same time that you opened it
and immediately everything was better.
We just continued to break,
and break,
and break.
Now we are ash and dust,
remnants of a lost love scattered to the wind.
We do not get a sparkling, happy ending.
Instead, you won’t accept the blame
and I’m trying my best to move on.
I guess it just wasn’t us.
You were not the answer to my question
and I did not belong in your melody.
I know there will never be a day that I can fit into your song.
I can live with that,
but can you?

I try to reconcile with my bones,
bargain with them to stop burning
as they touch the inside of my skin
embers falling into my bloodstream
as agonizing seconds pass
and I cry into the blood-stained
sheets on my childhood bed,
I ask my bones to stop twisting
into creatures I do not understand
seething with anger
that I cannot control
breathing hot coals around my veins
as I attempt to fight my own body,
even though I have always known
it is useless to try.
I ask my bones to give me a break
from the constant suffering they make me endure,
but they laugh at my pleading
and continue to reshape themselves
in the image of my darkest thoughts

You didn't love me
I was a burning building
And you were just looking
For something
To light your cigarette