third degree burns
just thinking about you

I want to learn how to live again
Not for you, but for myself
I want to erase those memories,
I’ve kept buried in my heart for so long
I want to heal,
Every single aching wound
That you caused, in the name of love
I want to set my soul free,
Burning it all down.

I once crossed a bridge,
That now is burnt.
It seems that behind,
All are hurt.
A word too quick.
Can't be taken back.
My whole world,
Goes to black.
Actions and reactions,
Done in haste.
It all seems,
Such a waste.
Regret, it rears it's ugly head,
and desires to be fed.
But regret, A bridge, can't rebuild
Not when it's very foundations are crumbled.
And covered by the embers,
That used to be a bridge.
Bridges are built on faith and trust.
The strong ones are steel,
And will withstand rust.
But thoughtless words,
Spoken in haste.
Can lay even the strongest,
Bridge to waste.

she burned every bridge
because the heat from the fire kept her warm
and the danger of the flames were better than emptiness

she burned every bridge
and sank every ship
before she realized she was on an island
alone.

Hard lines, sharp edges
would like to wash the harshness away
My maturity nudges me to stay
to breathe and
face these aspects
You are not me
yet I feel like I'm blowing away

A large deep breath
as I remain and allow
I walk and move
shifting energy around

Heavy focus dazed in and out
I allow myself
I open now
I feel myself challenged again and again,
but I remain here
present, staring

you straight in the eye.
My creation
buckles under my gaze
it tries to play games
but it cannot sustain.

My stomach churns,
skin chilled yet burns
But I remain.
Here, observing
Never truly fading

Burned away
in a fiery haze
yet
I still Remain.

I wept in the flames of my life,
Scratching at the rubble in vain.
The roof caved in. I smiled wildly,
Now nothing hid the stars from view.

Your paintings burnt quietly
As I framed the moon.

Time has fed a burning fire with dying embers.
A dwindling light in the winter wind, flickering
As the night sought to put it out but could not,
Resisted death and not once lost its light.

Still I pitied it. A candle hanging by a thread,
Waging quarrels with the wind, found no solace
In my cupped hands. The cold and bitter tears
Of these winter nights pelted its withering spirit.