First:* Take all belongings reminding you of him.
Second: Find a good spot to make fire.
Third: Throw things in pile at spot.
Fourth: Get gasoline, lighter and bucket of water.
Fifth: Pour gasoline all over things.
Sixth: Light lighter and throw into pile.
Seventh: Watch flames absorb everything.
Eighth: To quench fire pour water over fire.
Ninth: Now do the same to *him.

You got under my skin,
and ripped my heart out of my chest.
You lit a match against my skin,
and then stayed to watch it burn.

              * I still cross continents for you.

There’s a scar on my heart

And that’s bad for a start

But it’s nothing to the state of my soul,


I've been blistered and broken

By all the lies that were spoken

My love wasn't all that she stole.


If you know the great pains

Even been drowned by her rains

You know of the heartbreak I speak,


There’s no sure defence

Against such savage offence

And the future seems glaringly bleak.



All the punches she threw

Landed straight, strong and true

And my walls just crumbled in fear,



When your soul is defeated

And all defences depleted

That’s when you see crystal clear.



For though the battle was lost

And the scars show the cost

Your soul is a remarkable thing,



Picking you up from the ground

Where’s there’s no life to be found

Your heart has a story to sing.



If you listen you’ll learn

That sometimes love burns

But the flames are what make you whole,


For without all the wars

Love has no cause

To heal and strengthen your soul.

Just like the sun,
He burst
Into fiery red flames.

In my spare time, I put out his fires, and I cut
the bottoms of my feet on broken glass while
traversing across the muggy, jagged scape of his mind.

He calls my name between pulls of cigarettes and the
striking of cheap matches, and it's worth noting that I never liked
my name much until I heard the fires scream it.

I'd stand at his side and watch the flames cause his heart to implode,
and I'd fidget with his *****, shaking fingers while I listened to him
whisper something about 'I love yous'

A man's art is a reflection of self. I take note of this,
while I watch the flames dance and swing in the browns of his eyes
and warm the cavern that, moments before, had been a heart.

I think
If people were fire
Your flames would rise a little higher
Than most
I think you would fill the cracks
Of the sidewalk
with wandering wisps of smoke
The dexterity of your flaming fingers
As they reached for strangers faces
Would burn through glacial gazes
Your aura would engulf these **** cold streets
In canopies of heat
You would stretch your ruby wings
To coast the earth
A body forged by nature
Emblazoned with raw truths
And I
I would bask in your glow
And fly a little too close