The lonely moth sits perched on the shower wall
Raindrops fog up the mirror quite unconcerned
Shampoo drips and stings my watchful eyes

The lonely moth moves between my lashes onto the faucet
Scruffy loofahs exfoliating my ***** limbs fall to the side
Water pools outside the hair-clogged drain

The lonely moth flutters– gone in a trick of the mind
Hair cream coats dripping, bouncy locks of curls
A fresh towel becomes soaked and softened

My mother is a spider.
Carefully crafted webs fill my childhood home.
With great care, she weaves day and night,
trapping her family inside.
We struggle but only doom ourselves further.
I am a fly,
buzzing as I wrap myself in her silken strands.
My sister is a butterfly,
flapping her wings as the webbing pulls off her beautiful scales.
My brothers are bees
who once sought bright flowers and hives of others like them.
My father is a moth,
guided to the web’s shimmering light.
Now, we all lie still, drained of life,
slowly being consumed by the weaver.

Another silent night where a moth flies with all its might,
To the flame, a beacon, too warm and bright
This entrancing distant spark in the vastness of the dark
Is proof that beautiful things, too, could end a life

“I could never blame you for how you’ll ruin me,
for I have always loved in extremes.”

The soft wind blows, enhancing the flame’s curves
The fearless moth draws nearer to the heat
It knows the cost, but it does not fear
To lose its wings for a single kiss

Silent Picture Book
worm-etched warmth
cocoon coop-cope
deep-dive wings
emerald waters Shores

Molokai Melting Man
mouth moon moth

main inspiration mute
moon cold draft move
press inscript pencil
sun rising melts still
thread resounding threat

sane symmetrical sense
eyes emotional ease

bucket-thirsty feel
head-first thought
emotional leech
inner world melt
outer word felt

He longs to be close to me,
like a moth to a matchstick.
But god,
he's drawn to any pretty light.
Blinded, hungry, dizzy.

Fluttering erratically, just to feel something.
Life is too short.
One day, all the lights go out.
It's all he can think about.

I befall in deception yet again,
As you drank my blood in a wine glass,
Your mere presence leaves me crippled of senses other than my sight,
My heart beat induces every other sense numb,
It beats louder and louder,
Ensuing on me a maddening repercussion,
spirals of emotions swarm,
While my flesh rots,
As I have loved you with every vessel and there is none of me left,
Nothing more than a shadow,
That worships your presence,
And devours it's self in your absence,
My selfishness fails to Reason Infront of your heartless arrogance,
Indeed,
You have fueled a bizarre touch to my nature,
Yet,
my heart hums a tune in envy wishing for you to satiate me with your presence,
And engage with my hearts hollowness by being a permanent dweller,
So I can thrive in oblivion of my own tangible  hollowness,
I am deceased until you pour within me life,
Drop by drop,
But then you flicker a fire to watch me burn,
Your mistaken to think I have not  burned to ashes,
For I  am a moth for your flame,