You call me
I am running, ripping through the night
I am running towards you, again and again
I see the smoke rise and I feel my feet move,
Sparks blitzing from my toes.
I am running to hear that I will be free -
You still see through me like hushed glass in a window.

You know that
I am not running to feel your warm touch
I am not running because our hearts are kindling
Though I think I am.
I am running when you snap
Because the flames are dancing once again
And I have yet to realize that

*I am not your fire
I am just your matchbox.

I thought I was worth a song
A bouquet of flowers, a love letter
But I soon learned that
My curves were just harpoon meat
Drowned under cheers
At the whale sightings

I like the way you look at me
As you watch me leave.

I like how you gaze at the sight.
Just as the sun slowly watches the sky darken
Before the night.

Stopped moving, final twitches -
****** dry -
Colorless -
Eyes still open, tongue hanging free -
"Dead as a dog" -
just cold.


No I don't want to linger on the cliche of death
But I still wonder how the life ebbs away, silently
How it unsticks itself
How the limbs, once stiff with life
Resign into the shadows
With that final sigh.

And would it be so hard to sit and boil in the truth -
To let the regret stir in the tea leaves,
To let the colors spill and rise into the eaves?

Could I let my words be candid -
Or will I be swallowed in the sky and rain
Before my petals bow to the floor in defeat?

Its 2 am and the streetlights are slowly crawling by. This song is humming from rooftop to wheels. You are passed out in the passenger seat. You lost count of the drinks you had tonight - the numbers lost their claim when you were toilet side, hurling the night back up. But you dont care. I saw the way your eyes spilled with her laughter, your words soupy with her speech.
You called me up because you know I'd come to. Because I always do. (I sometimes wondering if you know I keep my ringtone on during nights when the drunk texts stream through.)
This song is playing. I ask myself what sort of prisoner I have become, and where you dropped the keys between the drinks? I move to stroke your hair like before, but I stop myself - do I wanna know? Repose kisses your cheeks, and the stars dance on as you sleep with ease.