Mike 15h
I don't write like I used to -
using excuses, like
"These are the times you write about" -
but it doesn't come, the pen has dried
the thoughts have drifted out to sea
out to pasture - off to sleep for eternity -
I don't taste food much these days,
I usually push it past my tongue deep into
my stomach like fodder into a furnace, crackling flames
boiling my voice box, wooden bones, I don't have much to say
Too much I feel lost, wasted space in a crowded room
I don't call you in this cold war, and the phone won't ring
I don't call you in this cold war, and the phone won't ring.
Amanda 2d
I watch our love go up in flames
Feel my soul catch fire too
Summer reminds of happier days
The face I once knew

Distance is dangerous wind
Fanning flames, vacant of your smile each day
Your heart so numb you cannot feel the burn
Hear it beat even miles away

Patience the quality I lack
Forget to give my feelings time
So these hasty decisions catch up
When it's too late to change my mind

In forgotten days when your heart was better
Pleasant, simple, and unaware
Friendship quietly develops rust
Photographs more than eyes can bear

Broken glass, shattered hearts
It has all lead to this dead end
Perfectly synced self-destruction
Beautifully orchestrated lies descend

Peeking through darkness, cartwheeling midair
No stars left in our sky
The night alive with melancholy
Sorrowful birdsong in gusts low and high

My heart suspended in tragic beauty
Soul dies a little more every day
Waiting for eyelids to finally open to the light
Radiating from the glow of flames guiding the way
I swear I'd burn the city down to show you the light
Tanaya 6d
Flames result in something burning into ashes.
The stronger ones, that resist, are not saved from the effects either.
                                                                ­                             They blacken.

And when a fire and passion as strong as ours burns out, one of us is going to be reduced to ashes and the other one is going to carry the weight of the darkest heart around.

I strive to keep us ablaze because somewhere I know that the pain of being reduced to nothingness is much lesser than carrying around a broken piece of what once was.

                                                           ­                     Burnt from all sides.

And I know that I'm the one who's going to resist.
                                                         ­                                         Oh, I fear.
This particular musing is the closest to my heart,
Because it's four years since I wrote it first,
And now my hands are covered in soot.
writerReader Mar 2015
our love is
slowly catching
mc ish Aug 2
tampering with my unruly undecidable fate will result in your damnation
i am flowing with estrogen and auburn flames
shoot me with your attention?
and i will burn your name
you can not could not and will not control me longer
as quickly apparating as your fleeting joy
you do not own me
your vicious sneers and ripping of walls has only made me stronger
my little deaths are not your toy
i dont blame my wrath on your ruthless black magic
just as you cannot blame the sun for crashing into jupiter
nature has a way of making itself known
being angry has resulted in my newfound power. thank you.
ph Jul 30
You blew me away, like a
                                   feather in the wind.
The very first second I saw you,
                                                   I knew there
was no way I could keep up.  You swept me
             away with your wild currents.
          When I first met you,
                      I thought, I was weak.
I thought you would surely extinguish my flame
  with the tiniest whisper.
          But you showed me that I
                        you to be stronger,
          that I needed you to burn brighter,
not because I was weak, not because I needed a man, but
                      because you were my
other half.
Lynnia Jul 21
We were dueling with sparks
Now we’re juggling fire
Flames still starve in the dark
Never beaten or tired
Doesn’t dim with age
It can’t be blown out
Still alive with rage
Feeding on your doubt
It doesn’t think
And it can’t feel
Driven to the brink
Craving its next meal
Anger scorches your soul
Many have learned
If you play with fire,
you’re bound to get burned.
Anger scorches you from the inside out and letting the blaze speak for you has its consequences.
Amanda Jul 20
I became your hidden habit
You tried hard to conceal
You didn't think about
How being a secret made me feel

Was it easy for you
To constantly shove me aside?
No matter how you hurt me
Always came back to your side

Did you like the attention?
The hours given to you?
Enjoy blameful tears of mine
Now I'm glad we're through

Don't mistake me for a fool again
Tired of your games
Know who you really are
I'm not diving into flames
It is the things I desire that which will destroy me in the end
V Exeter Jul 20
So it was true, then.
I didn't think I would see
my home in ruins.
I thought I'd die, darkly,
half close to happy.

Over the ridge, I
opened my eyes to horror:
The village that raised me,
razed, in flame, the mourners,
in burns, unwilling.

The war caught wind of the gem
emblazoned inside
Shana's dragon spirit, in night,

and I'm a moderate
morning too late,
to the play the heroic
Dominique Jul 16
"Do you love me?"

You feel like vanilla,
Soft, cream limbs draped
Across the crackling embers
Of my stiff timber body

And you whisper sizzling,
Heartfelt sugar
Into smoky ears that
Don't ever,
R e a l l y
Hear you
Or notice your full,
Pure vanilla song.

"Do you love me?"

Your thoughts are iced muffins
That the fire in my mouth
Licks up straight from the tin
I try to force it, breathe you in
Push through the spitting flames

It almost works

And I'm part water,
Boiling, but fluid, flowing,
Natural tasting, complementing
Your vanilla hair
Your sugared fingers

But it can't last

"Do you love me?"

Written only ever in your eyes

And at last I tell them no,
Spreading ashes
Through a bitter tasting speaker,
Needing to take the last of my fuel out
Before it's too late.

And I guess this is how we were written to be,
My vanilla girlfriend
And burning wood me.
I teased my ex about her being soft and vanilla (and it's true, she was rather like ice cream)
In return, she told me I made her think of Georgian fires-
Burning wood is apparently the scent I carry.
Needless to say, my desire burned out...
Don't mix your vanilla with flames, kids.
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