I can't write like I used to.
I've lost my spark, my fire
and now i’m left with ash.
I've lost my match,
my flare, and muse.
I ignored it for too long
the fire it made was big, passionate, and beautiful
but I let it turn to dust.
And since I lerk for my light
but no match will meet my satisfaction
no fire will ever be the same.

I crave intimacy
Not the type that subconsciously comes to mind -
The connection
Between one soul,
To another  
Bleeding pure, genuine
Devotion.
I crave fidelity
An enduring exchange
I don't want to be physically touched;
I want to feel my internal organs
Spark.
I want to embrace it  
Savoring every moment

The night has been soaked in gasoline
Light the match and set the scene
Drops of sun, and brim of dark
It tips it eyes to the cherished lark
Three years of time
Stolen in seconds, paid by dime

My forked tongue wished and whispered
As the light slithered and cut with scissor

Terror in the first degree
Set the stove to burn
Leave it on the timer
The one in which priorities urn

Paint them some smiles
Keep them coming for miles
They only stay around when you flip the bill
Take one chance and then will they spill

Alone, take it as a loan
Another debt to pay onces the moon rise again
Desert eyes with silk vein
Corrode in marrow, then she will be sane

i have convinced myself otherwise.

that all these feelings for you have vanished,
and it did at least for a little bit.

or maybe i just ignored it too well,
but when you grasped my hand.

your touch brought warmth,
and sparked all the forbidden emotions to unleash.

yet i still try to convince myself otherwise,
but these emotions are a good high.

even if you are never mine.

The voices inside talks and in multiple highs it trips
In the midst here I passively shout.
The trashes and my internal gossips
Here they are to put me in doubt,
Questioning my existence and the unknown trips.
But you know what, I will stay align and to this I vow
To being uncomfortable and reaching beyond pain
To appreciate this little spark of life and its beauty again and again.

But this is not ideal.
I don’t fancy him.
There’s no spark for me.
I admire him. I have love for him. But I don’t fancy him.
I find myself wanting to fancy him.
Due to selfish, superficial, unemotional motivations I give him a try.
He’s in ecstasy. Beyond pleased.
I’m in two minds. I’m kissing him.
But why?
Why am I kissing him?
I don’t fancy him.
This is so ****** up.
I tried mum. Honestly.

It came to pass that in a fiery blaze
You were born
Little being with the WORLD against you
Tiny spark
With only the tools of your own making
Rock and stick
Teeth for talking and hands for creating
So unlike
Yet so similar to those before you
I felt it
The shudders and shaking at your coming
The whole WORLD
Pausing for a second to stop and stare
Baby hands
Reaching towards the heavens to catch the sun
A face with
Intelligent eyes, that burned like your path
What are you
And what has your coming brought to the WORLD?