our love was a wildfire, creeping, powerful and fiery like no other passion.

our love was a wildfire, dangerous, it destroyed the relationships in its wake

our love was a wildfire, engulfing hearts and minds, leaving nothing but tragedy.

our love was a wildfire and you didn’t believe in the rain, every flower, every lust-lined letter we spoke.

our love was a wildfire that ignited with the friction of our lips crashing like waves over and over again.

our love was a wildfire and the trees we hid in turned to ash.

our love was a wildfire and I’ll never forget the day your eyes froze over.

our love was a wildfire and you kept the embers turned to rage.

our love was a wildfire and I fueled your flame before I torched you with it.

our love was a wildfire and the scars you bear will never heal.

our love was a wildfire and I wish it had burned us alive.

I was raised by stags, snakes and sisters
up north, they value the silence
and I held my breath for years

I was raised by the dirt streets
as ***** as the person I would grow to be
the streets lined with crosses and weeds
the streets that contorted and consoled me,

I was raised by the frozen lakes and black ice sheets
and the snowfall that would bury me
I was raised by the winds of january
cold to the bone and choking patiently,

I was raised by the roots of the trees  
how they dig into the dirt, like you dig into me,
deep into earth and the hurt and the nature of us

The winds howl to remind me of the winter's toll
that of the wild in all of us,
how quickly one can deteriorate
how every smile has a price to pay
how every wound festers in a different way.

he knew of the evil he heard
he thought nothing of it
he preached it be fiction
be slander
be falsehoods of malice intent
be against his angel draped in fur
be it death so soft,

he knew of the evil he saw
he wore shades with his violet suede jacket
he was blind to the violence
be it the ball & chain of those before him
be it his fate to lay in the stray dog's bed
be it his turn to tip the glass of wine
be it blood spilled,

he knew of the evil he spoke
he stands in memory in lust-lined letters
he wrapped his chords around it, beating
he ripped it out slowly in greed & wrath
be it a reminder of failure
be it the astral curse of the harlot
be it a trophy to spark humiliation
be it the return of the drowning sensation,

he stood before evil & gave it a home
he said sinister tasted sweet
he spun sugar into cinder blocks
he said cherry cola was out of season
be it the cavities of lost love
be it novocaine
be it something rotten from the start,

                                                         ­                        but it tasted so sweet
                                                           ­                 in prison, no one waters
                                                                ­                             the cherry tree
                                                            ­                    but he tasted so sweet
                                                        be it my sweet tooth that buries me.