My flaws are not pretty.

My imperfections are not endearing,
my vices are not quirky,
and my regrets are not intriguing and elusive.
They’re ugly and unsettling;
better off buried in the catacomb that is my memory.
better off dormant, hibernating through all four seasons.
They destroy and ravage anything
that they can get their hands on.
They spread like wildfire through any self-respect
that might be living inside me.
Burning up every last trace of my dignity
until all that’s left
is a shower of ash and things I wish I could forget.
They don’t add character or substance
and leave me blinded by contempt.
They whisper to me that I don’t deserve to be happy.
And I listen to them.
They’re angry and want revenge.

Well... maybe that's too deep for you
Too dramatic
But you liked the drama
Just not in my words
So I can't help but wonder
If my body was your chew toy
Simply because your other ******* were unavailable to play
Or wonder if you really meant to leave me alone with the responsibility of cleaning up the mess that we made together
Or wonder if you ever truly believed that we could bottle our sparks
Yet, no matter how much I want to hate you
I can't remember how
You taught me how to love
So I did
I loved every moment of us
Of you
But then again
I guess everyone loves the fireworks before they unexpectedly burst into uncontrollable flames

And maybe this was your goal
To twist my emotions around your relentless fingers
To toy with me
To get in my head
Or maybe getting in my pants was good enough for you
And you couldn't give a **** about my thoughts

So that shooting star I wished on
Disappears into the infinite collection of dim flickers in the night sky
And I'm just another diminished
*****-less trophy
For you to stack against your wall with pride
Just another addition to your demonized collection

Well, no.
I still can't remember why I wanted to write about you
But I write about sad things
So maybe that's why
And no
It's not sad because of the way you used me
It's sad
Because I know if I were to see you tonight
I'd run to you
And let you run your hands through my hair again
To feel that shallow wind again
As if I wasn't already burned enough
As if we didn't start a wildfire together.

I forgot why I wanted to write about you
But then again
I forget a lot of things nowadays
And the things that I want
Never make sense anymore
At least you made me want something

And so
When I saw a star
Dashing across the horizon
I wished I would see you again
Then for a second
A single second
I closed my eyes
And I could feel your hands in my hair
But it wasn't your hands
It was just the shallow wind
Shallow
Hollow
Empty
Like your desires
So when I kissed you
You left your eyes open
And when I asked you if I looked beautiful
Your answer was inaudible
Always too silent to hear
So you broke me
Or maybe I broke myself trying to fix you
And the sparks we created
Started a wildfire
One that I couldn't put out
Even after you left
So it burned the last broken pieces of me
The ashes swept away
In that shallow wind that feels like your hands.

Dangerously arid.

Sparks a flyin’.

Fires a spreadin’.

Intensifyin’.

hot throat
thick breaths
words choked on and lost to coughs

eyes watery
runny nose
nowhere is safe, not even at home

l.r.

to the sound
of your friends playing a game
involving beetles and songs
I could’ve played along

but I could feel your eyes
and honestly, I’d gouged them out
if they weren’t already bleeding
forests, priests, and poetry

So I'll burn them instead
in an attempt to soak
any chance of fire
I swear

The only way
I could leave you is this:
with your eyes closed and
every memory of you in ashes

Ever sense i was a spark in her womb you've been faning the flames.
You've held me tight between you both, carful that i don't blow out
You've given me the nutrients i needed to bun high
But then when i grow one way you fanned me the other way.
Away from things you see as wrong,
Unfit.
Rude.
A waist of time.
While holding me tight you somwere along the way frogot to let go.
Do you not understand i can not grow under this pressure?
do u not see me being smuthered?
So now it is to late.
I am dying.
While my light is bright it is small and will not last.
You Can not go back and fan any spark into me now.
Now i pray for death.
That cold darkness.
Then you will let go.
Then you will forget my glow.
I would pray to be ash.
The kind that looks like ***** snow,
Floting.
So that i can join the soil, right under your feet.
So that wildflowers could grow through me.
The ones no one will pick
Or put in a vase.
So that you could not display them at my funeral