Light me like a fire,
and extinguish me like rain.
Illuminate my darkness,
and numb my persistent pain.

Can I melt into your bones
and become part of you?

Let me be the sound of your heartbeat,
or the blood pumping in your veins.

I'll be the air in your lungs,
the color in your eyes,
the lines in your palms.

Let me be the parts of you
that make you so beautiful to me.

How do the wounded ones find a love
that will heal their brokenness,
when no one wants to cut themselves on all of the jagged pieces?

Find your way into my cracked and tired heart,
and make me whole again.

Remind me what it's like to be alive.

You left the light on in my soul,
and it beckons me.
You are the faintest cry, the smallest hope,
the last ray of sun to light up my world and
then you're gone.
Stay and soothe the fire in my aching heart,
as it burns the brightest for you.

The last wave of sadness comes without warning,
strong and unforgiving.
It rips through walls built,
drowning out what's been sheltered.
The fragile heart is no match for the surge.

It is the eye of the storm;
It stirs up the deepest and darkest of waters,
brings in the heaviest of clouds.
It moves fast, muted but resolute in its presence;
Bearing down, its arrival is crushing.

It devastates but passes quickly;
The pieces of what's left behind will settle with the calm.
Remember the architecture of your raw heart,
the feeling of wholeness.
Remember, reconcile, reconstruct.

They say that over time, it dissipates -
it will drain from you, evaporate like smoke.
It will descend upon you, destroy you;
but will soon release you, and fade.

But with time it instead grows stronger,
demanding to be felt.
It knocks on the doors of my soul,
its urgency to be let inside unrelenting and ruthless.

Like an unpredictable storm, it lands and ravages,
leaving just fragments of a heart already rebuilt.
What is gone is the will;
the resiliency dulled, the courage spent.

It's a deep-rooted ****, an unrivaled opponent;
It's a malevolent fire that refuses to be smothered.
The Hurt:
a wound that permeates, and remains.

I can feel you in the deepest, darkest places;
You are the trembling of my bones,  
and the pulse of my heart.  
You hold me together, but tear me apart -
forever hollow, but consumed by you.
My paradox.