You burn me like the sun,
blind until morning comes
that skin is tinged with blisters:
it’s an overwhelming glare that forges
composition with my eyes
until I’m dancing with the synthesis
of you and winter,
once more trapping us within the night,
where I rely on the false comfort
of your light
If we are stuck in this petulance,
I will dispel your volatile plans
with my unending distrust
while my mind strives to digress
into half formed math problems,
calculating an answer as to how
I let you pass by the line I drew up
while vying for our sanity to be wasted
so cycles can once more begin anew
owing to spring and it’s eternal bloom
Was it designed this way from the start?
Were there ever words kept to heart?
Do I cling to the safety of warmth?
Or listen and surrender
to this mountain
where passerby boast
about its peak as a safe haven,
absent of fear
So I tread alone
with a struggle of heavy breaths,
as the thought of settling for less
leaves me in scorn, once again,
I’ll redirect this energy into resolve
to keep a steady pace
where lines will be drawn
with a permanent pen
and I’ll learn to fan the flame
of this burning sky
that I call letting you in
02/20
