she is the fire in my heart
that relit from ashes
left by a flame long ago extinguished.

she is the glimmer in my smile
the only one who can make me feel so whole,
but she can smash me to pieces just as easily.

she is the shine in my eyes
though whether it’s from satisfaction or sadness
is up to her to decide.

she’s an ever changing zigzagged line
i am the constant.
we only ever meet once in a blue moon.

it feels like you can’t ever be quite close enough
for it to satisfy me.
my mind, my skin, my heart,
are all simply unfulfilled.

as i lay upon my bed at night,
i consider, and reconsider, and repeat.
the fantasy of being in love, of being loved
is really lovely as an idea.

the thought that plagues my mind
is why the translation
of my hopes and thoughts, to reality
always get turned to terror?

maybe if two souls could merge
i would feel complete.
it could be possible, could be real
but in this universe it’s all futile

so as i pull the quilt over my body
alone in my bedroom
i accept that anything could be described as ‘real’
because it’s only ever as real as this life can be.

i can’t help but look at her skin
once clean, and full of life.
now its lost all its colour
covered in a thick layer of dust.
nobody has taken any care.

there are few who notice her changes,
and though those few try to communicate it
all they see is something fake,
an unrealistic cry for attention that simply isn’t needed.
she’s still beautiful. she’s not going to change.
or so they say.

i watch as she melts out of shape.
i see the smoke from their cigarettes curl around her,
turning her grey, slowly, slowly, but surely.
can’t they see she can’t move?

she’ll only get sicker and sicker.
who is to blame but the ones who made her this way?