"wildfire" poems
I’m a child and not a bride, but
Last month you made me marry you.
You know it wasn’t love that made me say yes
But the fear of what shape my death could take
If I were to turn you down. Of course
I had no voice. I could only muse to myself
In the dark closet and imagine myself
A mother at thirteen: would it be awesome?
Would it be dreadful? Would it…? I died of anxiety.
Last month you made me marry you.
I had no time to discover me for myself:
Who I was, what I was, what I wanted to be;
I had no time to think before I had to say yes.
But it pains my bones to the marrow.
I am an unripe fruit for the eating.
I am a piece for the show-glass.
Last month you made me marry you.
I spent nights upon nights weeping over how you’ve
Broken me; how you’ve set my life ablaze
Like a forest in a wildfire;
And now the once-upon-a-time sweet sounding music
Of my soul is burnt into silence.
I have forgotten the dialect of my soul.
I hush. I hush. I hush. I hush. I hush.
You have beaten silence into me,
And now I have to prepare to moan and wail
Beneath your weight, while I watch you helplessly
As you bite into my innocence,
As you suckle the un-ripeness out of me,
As you dig into my childhood and pleasure yourself
In the childhood screams you hear from me.
But it isn’t the fun that makes me scream.
It is the bitter pain of knowing, of remembering
That my life ended at thirteen:
Broken like a fallen calabash
In the hands of a fifty-five year old man.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were
People that weren't raised christian
People that didn't have dads
People that were abused
People that i should pray for but not get close to
when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay
i didn't see it coming but i probably should have
she wore ties every day
and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up
and cut her hair short as soon as she could
but i didn’t see it because gay was other people
when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire
“did you hear? that girl is gay.”
I watched as people slowly backed away from her
people that knew her all her life
that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly
I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave
I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to
that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before
I watched.
I didn’t do anything.
what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people
it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong
but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with
because i loved her
I quietly stayed.
didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back.
I should have.
but i didn’t.
I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her
i didn’t say to these people
**** you
that girl is beautiful and amazing
and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either
but i didn’t .
I didn’t go through what she did.
I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends
When i was 15, i got fed up
I left that drama group.
I stopped going to that church.
I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why
the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?”
answered that question for them.
I spent 24 hours examining my bible
trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong
there were barely any
and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong
or planting crops next to each other
or wearing two different fabrics
there was my answer.
this isn't a story of my journey.
This isn't me building myself up
“hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people
I’m good now”
this is a story of how one person can change your life forever
if i didn't have a gay best friend
what a way to start a story, huh?
if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there
quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand
so don’t look at all Christians and say
they’re awful
they’re bigoted
they’re judgmental
because we are
but often it’s because we don’t know any better
teaching us kindly works
leading by example.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
#*Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter
For this I wish forever
Strands spun with goddess gossamer;
softer than touch of mother
Your eyes dazzle with no glitter
For this I stare o're yonder
Locking jewels with coins of others;
Leaves throbbing chests emptier
Your form flows as gentle rivers
For this I grudge past swimmers
Glory bequeathed to the winner;
drown will the losing suitors
Your voice humbles angel choirs
For this I listen eager
Songs molding seraphs from satyrs;
in harmony with nature
Your being stirs wildfire
For this I bear the pleasure
Ethereal flames dance together;
fueled by spiritual tethers
You are my love light of summer
For this I waded winter
Glowing 'bove, spring was made greener;
blooming nascent desire*#
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
I want
To fall in love with someones smile
To swoon under their gaze
To become dizzy with their touch
I want
To crave someone like an addiction
To nestle up to their warmth
To get an adrenaline rush from their scent
I want
To hold them and never let go
To tell them how much I love them everyday
To keep discovering them like it's my personal quest
I want
To give them my heart
To love them for all that they are
To keep them from the tainted world
I want
But what can I do with these contaminated hands?
How dare I try to hold them close with these hands of mine flowing thick with lies?
To tell them sweet nothings with my corrupted tongue?
My love
Is like a wildfire
Sudden, quick, and innocent
Without my permission my little spark turned into a flame
And consumed everything that contained a letter in your name
My love
Is like a wildfire
Untamed, ephemeral, and dangerous
It destroys all it touches,
Breaking barriers, burning bridges
It envelopes everyone in its warmth leaving no option but to run or turn to ash
Beware of my wildfire love
You cannot leave unscathed
I leave a scar
Beware of my wildfire, love
Because I'll burn enough for us both
I'll keep you warm on cold nights and dry on rainy days
I will set your heart ablaze and love you with all the force of my wildfire
Beware of my love,
It can't be forgotten nor replaced
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:08 AM UTC
What's it take
These days
To write a poem
That makes the world go mad
That brings the crowds to their feet
That spreads like wildfire
Through a dry winter forest
Is it those excessively long words?
The ostentatiously loquacious
Platitudinous ramblings
Of an insecure mind aspiring
To authentic intellect?
Is it perhaps...
the "creativity"
of varied spacing
or... could it be..... the lack
of capitalization
the loathsome little letters
screaming out
hey, look at us!
... or maybe it's
the punctuation marks,
littered, haphazardly
through the text
(whether used correctly)
or, theyre not?!
despite worrds mispeled
and a grammar might is broken
can these gimmicks increase interest
though miswritten or misspoken?
Is the trick alliteration
Whose bite brightly bids us
To center on the snappy sounds?
Although all along
unvoiced underneath
Ideas idle in the isles
(or perhaps the aisles)
Of the mind
To meld and craft and bind
Our thorough thoughts
And worthy words
Into lines
Which
Heard by herds
Raise the
Praise for which we
Privately, desperately
Pray
Maybe it's a magical mix
Of splendid in-your-head rhythm
Marvelous meter that perfectly clicks
Flowing smoothly without schism
Well-spaced stanzas
Well-used time
Well-crafted phrases
Well-thought-out rhymes
Well, maybe not...
those gems are often ignored
cast-aside, unread, even abhorred
Why?
Because the modern world
doesn't need your rules
your restrictions
your regulations
your misguided boundaries
your oppression
your antiquated ideas
of "the right way"
to write
to speak
to act
to live
to (fill in the blank)
No, what the modern world needs
is
Negation!
Contradiction!
Resistance!
Revolt!
And poetry whose words
Say the same thing
Repeat the same meaning
Echo the same lyrics
Rephrase the same thoughts
But in an ever-so-slightly
Different
Varied
Altered
Adjusted
Changed up way
Line
After line
Of synonyms
over
and
over
and
over
again
-----
What's it take
These days
To not give in
To narcissism's spiral?
But more importantly:
What's it take
To make my poem go viral?
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
Tiny hands barely able to hold a bottle,
now drink out of one,containing toxins.
Tiny ears that used to hear bad words and coo,
now spit them like wildfire.
Tiny mouths that would be forced to take icky medicine,
now pop pills and insert drugs into their being.
Tiny eyes looking at life as a breeze,no cares in the world,now turn into
eyes that crave attention but don’t care what we have to do to get it
We are spoiling the pure bodies we once had.
People are sleeping around,
when I remember the worst thing you could do is hand-hold.
We take the things we had as kids,
and ruin them.
We honestly take the cuteness and turn it into ...
well that's for you to decide.
You pick if your morals are guided with a compass,
or thrown away like garbage.
Who am i to judge?
But I've also learned,these days,My darling..
This is adolescence.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 6:43 AM UTC
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.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 6:12 PM UTC
Deep love within the heart
Ignite luscious flames aglow.
Spreads vast with just a spark,
Desires down below.
Keenly tantalizing,
Flawless colors and hue;
Unbridle free flying,
Loose reign while dreams come true.
Spreads rapidly, bright blaze,
Gold lighting of hope
Alive, aware, un hypnotize,
Curious Kaliedoscope.
A journey to enjoy
Burning fire devour
Life's burdensome's toy;
Amid a horse named Wildfire.
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
born in illusory chains
gnarled metal
encrusted in my broken skin
the copper colored dust
of rusted steel
infectiously envelopes
shaving off antiquated layers
of fundamentalist religion
encrusted for generations
unpeeled until raw
an unsophisticated method
unveiling
ancient lodged glass shards
colored with deceit
brought before their court
interrogated
unfathomably skewered
an eerie salem witch trial
in modern times
barbarically they shun me
banished
i wander aimlessly
smelling the rotten decay of deceased community
as splinters pierce my feet
from the crooked wooden plank
i walk alone now
an unfathomable inner ache
kindled a residue within
igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows
uncontainably erupting
i dance savagely
naked in the orange moonlight
and in every shaded edge
lit my soul ablaze
i am a nomad sheep
‘tho not one of their color
no pasture to contain me
no shepherd i can follow
theological safety nets
no longer there to catch me
bohemian-like
i plunge
free falling
plummeting
stripped wide open
magically
fearlessness
reverses gravitation
floating
untethered
i soar amongst
apricot tinged clouds
my skin still wet from rebirth
and rise with the flaming coral sun
you cannot destroy me
i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener
and with fresh mettle
cut through the chains that bound
you can have my ego
but you cannot have my soul
dismantling domestication
transcending limitation
wildly untamed
i fly
©2016janetaylor
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
Don't write me off as apathetic because you don't understand me.
I am mountains sobbing in earthquakes.
I am rivers screaming in floods.
I am bridges laughing into splinters.
I am systems crashing and burning out with a wink of light.
I am a wildfire in skin and clothes and I would destroy you if I showed you my true self.
Do not underestimate my emotions because you do not see them.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 3:03 AM UTC
...a diary of the falling dominoes chapter
invisibly dying from the inside out
no one is looking into unseen eyes
no one can hear a muted voice fading
no one is close enough to be near
the deafening thrums echo
anxieties’ racing heartbeat
within morphing flesh shell ,
gasping for new breath
in a hovering stale silence
from a distance
the broken mirror ricochets a subdued light ;
much closer the reflection reveals
someone I once knew by heart
now an unrecognizable mask
enshrouds a terminal emptiness
inconspicuous at a fleeting glance ,
impossible to discern what storms rage
from the inside out ,... unnoticed
an uncontained wildfire
smoldering within, lies in wait
for the imminent winds of change
to fan the flames into the final
eternal silent ashes
a poet reaches out demurely
offering a candid look
into the window
of the imperfect human soul
there is no poetry
met by indifference
just gathered unread words scribbled,
squandered time
dripped slowly on an empty page ;
moments turn into days
days turned into years
invisibly dying from the inside out
an unfinished life trickles out
like seeping blood evanescing
from a bottomless puncture
wounding ... penetrating the heart,
leaching out the slow death of a poet
for poetry is only words unless they touch someone ...
befallen to indifference is poetic death
by salted paper cuts ...
a muting suffocation
that hiddenly erodes away,
silencing the passion
of a musing soul
one unread word at a time ...
© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
We finally unwound
After hours in my bed
A thin film of your ego peeled off and clung to my skin
Asymptomatic…I wish
You spread through me like a wildfire
That burns with every breath.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
The keyboard on my laptop has witnessed too many tear drops
Fall upon it's ebony skin as I type,
Each articulation of painful thoughts
And agonisingly catastrophic formation of words
Forcing another wave of grief to pour from these
empty blue eyes of mine.
I have tried to keep my head above the water,
To contain the wildfire in my head
That threatens to spread and burn under my veins,
Aflame in every single bone in this hollow body
But now it seems comforting to let myself slip
Beneath the surface,
To let the fire turn everything to ashes.
It feels better this way,
To be a chaotic mess.
At least I know how beautiful I'll be when I open up my heart and mind to the possibility of destruction.
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
YOU’RE JUST A WILDFLOWER
CAUGHT IN A WILDFIRE
AND I NEVER EVEN HAD A CLUE
YOU NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO BLOOM
I WAS QUICK TO ASSUME
EVERYTHING WAS ALRIGHT WITH YOU
YOU’RE JUST A LOST SOUL
WHO HAS LOST ALL CONTROL
TRYING TO GET YOUR LIFE BACK
BUT YOU DON’T KNOW
HOW TO FIGHT BACK
YOU WERE A FREE SPIRIT
AND I DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR IT
THAT YOU’RE FREEDOM
WAS BEGINNING TO CHANGE
AND I WAS THE ONE TO BLAME
DID I LIGHT THIS FLAME?
DELICATE, THORNY WILDFLOWER
ENGULFED IN MY WILDFIRE
YOU MAY HAVE LEFT A CLUE... OR TWO
BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE THE TRUTH
PLEASE TELL ME...
WHAT I CAN DO
TO MAKE SURE
EVERYTHING IS ALRIGHT WITH YOU
YOU THINK I DON'T CARE...
BUT MAYBE I CARE TOO MUCH
THE TRUTH IS, I'M SCARED
I SCORCH EVERYTHING I TOUCH...
YOU HAVE A RARE SEED
THAT THE WHOLE WORLD NEEDS
SO LET NO ONE STEAL OR FEED
OFF OF YOUR BEAUTY…
NOT EVEN ME
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 1:07 AM UTC
#*You are my love light of summer.
For this I wade through winter.
Glowing 'bove, the trees are greener;
blooming nascent desire*
of which I never knew I'd need
let alone make a heart bleed
girl, you got me on both my knees
praying you'll also need me,
too, to finally be complete
or otherwise reach life's peak.
*Your hair stills heart's rhythmic meter.
For this I wish forever.
Strands spun with goddess gossamer;
softer than touch of mother*
of which I never knew I'd need
let alone cause ex's envy
girl, you got her so **** ******
she blames you as much as me,
too, as love for you made her weep
and revealed her love is cheap
*Your voice humbles angel choirs.
For this I listen eager.
Songs that shift the course of rivers;
in harmony with nature*
of which I never knew I'd need
let alone so romantically
girl, you got me frantically
writing you some poetry,
too, and I hope you now can see
that maybe I'm also sweet
*Your soul ignites wildfire.
For this I bear the pleasure.
Ethereal flames dance together;
fueled by spiritual tethers*
of which I never knew I'd need
let alone spark fantasies
girl, you got me crying, "please, please!"
that you never take the lead,
too, cause this would be a done deed
if you wanted it to be.#
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
It's been a month since the illness started,
catching like wildfire,
the world's departed
it started off with the vast mutation
of a microbe that struck the nation
the pain it's caused, the lives it's destroyed
people tried to hide, they just cant avoid
that cloud that hovers over,
thats the illness
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
"silence is worse; all truths that are kept silent become poisonous.” ― friedrich nietzsche
like poking the hornet's nest with a stick, you are a rose with stems and thorns so thick,
your skin is protection from oppression, keeping the world out of your private channels
like i'm AM and you're FM all of which are static with distorted voices only science can pry through your enigmatic cacophony on a molecular level, and any evidence of who you are, i couldn't find with years of knowledge, a indestructible ship could speak more evidence about
why it was annihilated, obliterated, disintegrated under the ocean for months at a time without
any current survivors, and the last person i could be described as would be Sherlock Holmes
every detail washes over my head like a flood of details that can't enter because a force field
surround my head like it's a crown being so clueless, but it feels like i'm wearing a dunce hat
and maybe i do realize that there will be a position where you will be put out into light
there is no way out of your mind, like a schizophrenic, if kryptonite killed superman,
can it **** the infectious virus spreading like wildfire through these veins, can you stop
worrying about when you will finally break down and open up to someone?
****
- kra
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
how sad to be misunderstood
to be evicted from life
to have the full tenure
of a torrid human existence
gesture horribly at you
in faultless reputation
like that of a rancid rage
over a lost trinket
or to be quarantined
while fingerless skin scolds
and noiseless voices are raised
in a donated generosity of savage ignorance
striving to make copious amends
in vain efforts to regrettable
slow acting poison that boils the mind
oh how sad to be misunderstood
such varicose viciousness
oh it’s sad quite sad to be misunderstood
to live through and inoculated hour glass
giving limitless time to a wildfire of idiocy
and when your breath speaks they laugh
black laughter that shatters wet umbilical truths
shudders
knowledge gestures to smoking nostrils
oh how sad, how sad it is to be misunderstood
to be drenched in the rain but not get wet
in which antiquity rests with its
mythologised stupendous ill effects
getting vivid shadows massed all around
oh how sad it is to be misunderstood
until dactylic, hexameter, elegance
completes and slithering syllables
by their antiquity focus a shuddering shriek
that sends an exploding heart through your chest
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Among the mountains and oceans we claimed,
Environments we no longer know,
Starvation from the knowledge lacked.
Strange men of unknown origin push us away
With feathered spears and their spirits
Flying above us like the angels we seek.
The spread of our culture like margarine
Angers the earth it's ancestors tread on;
War and thievery. Disease and infection
Was wildfire in a land containing no such
Immunities to the harshness.
First cities died as infants, stillborns
Of history and freedom, yet
They survived in their determination.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 10:16 AM UTC
How do you explain that your bones are the coal used as breeding ground for a fire? How do you explain that there's a fire raging inside of you, setting every inch of your body and thoughts ablaze? Like a wildfire destroys the forest, this pain is knocking me down and smoldering me.
But how can you say you're in ashes when your body is unbruised?
No collapsed limbs, no heaving lungs, no unconscious mind -only puffy eyes and a tired tongue?
How do you explain that the tightness one gets in their throat upon hearing unexpectedly terrible news is a common feeling of yours - a side effect of the blood that runs through all of your veins? That even though you know you can do something, the words 'you physically cannot' are flooding your brain like a drug and poisoning every choice you try to make?
How do you explain that every move you make feels like walking on a tightrope that seems to never end. How each step sends a shiver down your spine; trying not to fall, trying to finish the task, trying to stop the anxiety -but you can never reach the end because your destination keeps switching from left to right despite the progress you've made.
How do you explain that you're dying when everyone see's you as perfectly alive?
NJ2016
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
Alluring eyes
Good enough to hypnotise
perpetual grace
Not a movement out of place
The wolf yearning
Thirsty
Greedy
Lusting
Craving
Twinkeling desires
Breed up like wildfire
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC
The Syrian process is a serial problem
When the disenfranchised
Cause a landslide
Of historical hatred
The key that ignites
Business and commerce
Wildfire hearts
And boiling skin
The harsh outbreak of deadly cholera
The blockade of the forceful armada
The coalition forces
Run wild like horses
The bombs keep falling
The people cry
The engine keeps stalling
The car dies
The white phosphorus
Brought by the white prosperous
Can burn to the bone
And wounds can ignite up to three days later
But the people of Raqqa
Are used to reigniting scars
They're used to searing flesh
That melts like tar
Where this will go
No one knows how far
Machines must be sustained
Hearts will be untamed
Lives constantly rearranged
A human rights activist attempts to send a report
What he's witnessed in Raqqa
Injustices; perceived and objective
But Hellfire
Turns the Internet cafe
Into a senseless violence display
The dirt, blood, and bodies
Mixed and spread like the art
That was ignored to lead to this quagmire
Whether this calamity started
At the Melian dialogue
Or a market diagram
Or a martyr's diatribe
What we need now is an m.d. to suture the wounds
But who will save us?
When noble protectors are blown up
And the reigniting scars scorch the hands that heal
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
Transformation.
To be transformed.
Seed to flower.
Child to adult.
Caterpillar to butterfly.
A wave can turn to a hurricane,
a flame to a wildfire,
a stormcloud to a tornado.
It looms,
it darkens the sky,
it frightens.
But does not the shore dry,
the forest fizzle out?
The sun sneaks out behind a seemingly never-ending stream
of darkness and devastation.
So, too, do we transform.
A boy became a man,
but not before
he was absorbed
by darkness.
Only thereafter
could he seek out the sun.
Peace comes after war,
recovery after illness,
healing after injury...
This transformation,
it is greater,
more magnanimous
because, too,
that process,
that search,
journey,
his darkness...
it stretched on for what he presumed was his
eternity.
He was scared.
He was alone.
And then,
he triumphed;
he needed no one.
And then,
out flew a newly
transformed
him.
Out to the world,
new world,
brighter world,
out he came...
a butterfly.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
Before you get lost in the unfinished maps of her veins
the ones like yours, but not stitched up too many times to count on the ticks of a clock,
make sure that she trusts you enough to tell the truth.
Make sure that she loves you enough to know how you lie.
Remember that every single time you open your mouth, she's wishing
you're saying I love you.
Remember that on Fridays she doesn't want to cook.
And she sure doesn't want you to cook anything that was slaughtered.
Remember that she prefers cheap whiskey over champagne.
And when you're opening your ribcage to show her how fast your heart beats
when she grabs your wrists, make sure the butterflies are set free.
Make sure they find the window.
Make sure they find a home.
Remember that every living creature is just that, living.
Remember that they have a heartbeat.
And when you stop breathing when you see her with her hair down,
when you're thinking about starting a religion about girls with flowers for eyes,
tell her she's beautiful.
Tell her she's so full of the future.
Get her a telescope so you can show her the moon when it's bigger than both your thumbs.
Take her skiing while it's Summer in Australia even though you curse the snow as if it
were born out of wedlock.
Let her know she's not the first but she's definitely the only, and you're so scared of dying.
You never know what you have until it's locked firmly in your grasp as if to not let it run away.
You might lose a lot of blood but you'll never lose your way home.
I don't want to hear the dial tone.
I want to hear your voice, I want to hear you scream. Tell me to leave.
Tell me that I am the only road that leads you to a purpose.
That in a world of blindness I am so technicolour.
Even though I can't promise you that, I can give you my words, thrusted from my lungs
like wildfire.
Searching for the way out.
Talk to me about religion, please please convince me that there is something out there other than
rotting in the ground for all of eternity.
Bible scripture doesn't whisper of your lips like my pillows do.
I never really thought about pillow talk until they started speaking me to sleep.
I find myself found by the curvature of your spine, of the shadows that take up residence on your shoulders like they have lived there all along.
I want to kiss away every bit of pain that has ever stopped you from smiling at strangers
and let you know that I'm coming home and I will always find your hands.
Let your ribs shake when your heart has had enough.
Let them shake.
Let the rain come through your window while you're sitting there in your makeshift darkroom.
You are the only thing I know about consistency.
And before I get lost in the unfinished maps of your veins,
I will be making sure they lead to me.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
the way you looked at her,
the way you looked at me.
your thoughts for her
were as evident as the sea.
red, hot jealousy.
envy is green,
depression is gray,
sadness is blue but
red, hot jealousy.
the way you talked,
the way you smiled
i knew
that i knew-
red, hot jealousy.
it burns the world down
it consumes
it engulfs
unable to control,
the red, hot jealousy.
drives me to the other end,
makes me rage.
like a wildfire,
red, hot jealousy.
you better stay away from me.
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC