It is actually possible
to  fight Fire with Fire.
Its a process by which
One's fuel is consumed by the Other.

I want to be a villanelle
two repeating lines you see
over and over
and they stick in your brain
i want to be your rule of threes
but the sort that repeats everyday
something that strikes you as you wonder why
you've seen it a thousand times
i wanna be the book of poems
on your bed side table
the one with the flowers on the cover
that you read before bed
i want to be the songs inside your head
I just want to be something
you cannot loose

Intensity in a writer is easy to spot
its in the callus on the finger that braces the pen
Its in the way she cannot breathe
when she looks at you
or until she finishes that line.
It's in the way you lose her for hours
as she writes, or reads, or paints you in poetry.
Its the way she tries to find words
that work better than I love you
Its that her love letters are 4 pages long
its the way she laments not being able to convey
exactly how she feels
its that sometimes her words don't seem to be constructed of ink
but life blood.
and that she is not flesh and bone
but paper and ink
She'll leave bruises with teeth
scratches with too short nails
because for just a moment she wants to consume you
we are all like that
we just want to be in your blood
to infiltrate your mind only for a moment.
It's in that she'll always remember the things that hurt you
every scar you've ever shown.
but not what she had for breakfast
it's her propensity for addiction
she'll say you make her want to be better
do not doubt her
you are the sky, the ink well, the page...
you are every beautiful passage
she doesn't love anything the way she loves words
you are words.... you are the thing itself.
you are the only thing even close in beauty
to the page.

It took me so long to learn
that being in love doesn't mean
holding tight to each others hands
so you both drown
its letting go so you can both swim to the surface
you are so light
like air for breathing.

Last night I told you I loved you
because the feelings built too high
And I
had been trying to let you say it first
So it wouldn't hurt if you didn't reply
But as I was laying in my bed
my heart was beating fast in my chest
And i could no longer swallow
my esophagus was full up
to the brink
and you were already asleep so
I wrote
All the reasons why
and that i didn't expect you to reply in kind
and i pressed send
i cant remember exactly when
you became the keeper of my heart beat
but i felt you should know
it rest in your hands

I was made to run from this
I've always preferred swift flowing rivers
to ocean fronts
the waves crash in the same place every day
i cant take the repetition
I'm afraid of these things
I don't wanna forget the way your name
feels like truth on my tongue
I'm suggesting that maybe I love you
but with shoes laced
and one hand on the door
you and I are much the same
we are not made to be with other people
so we see each other well.

The sky, last night as if fell asleep, was the wrong color
i know whats just how light pollution goes
But still i just huddled in my sheets
unsteady breathing
today the sky is silver grey
and the birds are singing their winter songs
I always wonder how the key is never wrong
they are always in harmony.