Flames.
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.

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

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
                   needed  
                        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.

I am on fire
Step by step feet scorched by flames
Breath by breath I burn

Waiting
-I seem to be doing lots of that-
I’d swear there’s smoke trapped under my lungs
My gut’s caught on fire
Consumes me
Red hot coal,
Two bags of air ousted
By toxic smoke building up,
Fragrant like tobacco
Wild like wood.
I often dream about
Driving a knife into my stomach
Just a pop and an excess of smoke
filling the room
No blood at all.
I’ll open the windows
Turn off the fire alarm.
I’ll leave the wound open.
A gaping, smoking wound is more dignified
Than screaming in the flames.