How I adore those fleeting moments
Wrapped in lace and tender touches.
Those intimate instances where the heart is flooded by butterfly kisses,
and the body ignited by fire.
I long for love's innocence
By the voice you whisper late at night.
I long for love's passion,
By your lips pressed gently against my own.
I long for love's warm embrace,
By your arms when the world crumbles beneath my feet.
But most of all,
More than anything,
I long for you.
My love.
My kerosene.
I only wished,
You longed for that love too.

I am the rat.
There are always
roads that I can take,
and always
new places to be explored.
I am compact,
and I can
fit wherever I
want to go.
There is always
a surplus of food and
I eat well.
But sometimes,
the food is poison
and I am left with only
my dying breaths.
Some passages lead me only to
being hit with a broom.
I am called
filthy and disgusting.
But still
I find myself
smiling when I
wake because
it's **** well worth it being the rat.
-ignis

I have spoken to
the birds.
I have asked them about
how they know where
it is that they're going, and
every one of them revealed that
they do not.
They tell me that they just
flap their wings and
fly away and they don't need to
think about where they're
going because they rely on
themselves enough to be
assured that they'll end
up right where
they need to be.
But how do you
know where you need
to be, I asked
them, and they told
me once again that
they do not.
They just rely on their
wings to take
them there.
I wish I could have been
brave and spread my
wings and fly where
I need to go as the
birds left.
But instead I
stayed behind.
At first I was
ashamed of
myself for not
following suit but then
I realised that
maybe the reason I didn't
fly was because I was
already where I
needed to
be.
-ignis

Once I looked in the
mirror and I saw
myself, but not
what I wanted to
see.
My reflection is
distorted, but I look
the same as in any
other mirror or
poem or
drawing and I am left to
wonder, is it the
mirror that is
broken or is it
me?
-ignis