I can no longer hide
My soul ignited

once disparaged
I long to share it

The chills in my spine put into words

Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin

What is this sensation

I drip colors you cannot see

Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch

Raw emotion channeled as such

My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust

I do not fear it
I can hear you blush

My favorite sound

Our souls combust

As the glorious LION
Stands strong in stature
Radiating with a presence
Of Absolute rule
The air washed with
A bristly respect
A natural pride
Beams with  beauty
He guards the gateway to truth
and only the brave may enter
He is the king that needs no crown
as he holds a royal presence as he
sits in his golden coat and main
Lies spark combust just bounce off
dissolve in all his shine.  

As broken men become renewed
Their fractured parts
Collect in the melting ***
Of the Lion's  stare
As they are engulfed and swallowed
In the reservoirs of his strength
As the many wounded souls
Find themselves restored
In his majestic presence
As he rattles the very fabric
Of this world

There is no procrastinating belly
Exposed by a lackluster display
No one insults his strength
By creating a make believe world
Or covers him with scaffolding so
That they may alter him
For he is the finished article
And he is never held up or supported
With anyone's emotional ropes or strings
For he no ones puppet
He is never silenced
By the Strangle hold of this world
Tightened with a multitude of gestures
For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!!
His explosive self expression
As his throat bursts and beams like the sun
Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed
As a thousand trap doors Open up in him  
And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered
within the sound of his voice.
His Soft pads of silent stealth
Gather for all his wealth
As the power of his pounce
Is governed by both his strength
Of spirit and the honesty
With which he meets the earth
For he owns all of his own pain
And paces and growls to warn
Away any who seek to steal his fresh ****
And diminish him with pretty lies
For he owns all his space
As it feeds his strength
As somewhere in the fury of feasting
Lionesses and Lions  
We find our freedom
For his power explodes like a volcano
When his soul meets the earth  
As he shakes off all avoidance
To seek only truth
As streaks of white light
And pure Gold glisten in the SUN
As the world's projections
Reflect and bounce off him

There is so much to learn
From a beautiful LION

I've seen sunlight in her eyes,
a reflection of her soul.
So warm, radiant and gentle,
but a glance is all I stole.

I've seen starlight in her eyes,
a reflection of her dreams.
Dancing beneath the sea of pearls;
mirrored in a serene stream.

I've seen firelight in her eyes,
a reflection of her lust.
The crimson embers flickering;
hearts threatening to combust.

I've seen moonlight in her eyes,
a reflection of her wonder.
Thoughtful silent glimpses shared
in the silver beams asunder.

Yet every moment my memory holds,
reflected in earth and skies --
I'd trade them all without hesitation
just to be beautiful in her eyes.

The world melts
My senses combust
My fingertips tingle

The world sways
I sway
I collapse

I feel numb
Disoriented
Everything goes dark...

A light.
A siren.
A vision of faceless faces.

I am alive.

The smell of disinfectant.
The idle chatter of two nurses.
A buzzing in my ear.

I am alive.

They're huddled 'round their periodic lunch tables,
square and socially pyramidal,
and I'm at the bottom.

But they're just fluorine factions,
bullies at heart trying to steal my e-lectricity
with their negativity.

Because I'm light,
Ultra-violet violence to the eyes,
Magnesium burning.
Anti-matter meets matter.

And that catalytic, cataclysmic energy is attractive.
And they see me. They see, see, see,
But I've got too many Cs on this side of my false, metallic personality.
I'd better balance myself
Or I'm not getting a good reaction.

Classic ionic, ironic idiocy.
I've bonded with you,
just compounding the issues.
'Cause you're a complete acetate without a solution:
now all I've got are problems.

Dot Diagrams are dotted lines separating you from me,
because over the years what was a bond
became a partially negative charge
against me.

I was your oxygen, and you were carbon
-ated, bubbly and explosive.
We would Combust.

But now all's left but to see, oh, two
of your new girlfriends flanking your sides,
'cause we've decomposed, split, gone off to better things.

Monatomic monotones lace my speech,
and I'm pining for something to complete this emp-d shell
that is myself.

'Cause I miss what we had.
We had chemistry.

Won't you dare
Step in the storm?
Won't you dare
Cup the hand of fate in yours?

Lead on the way
Amidst corridors of blazing sands
Won't you let the friction carve?
Your hands, your sight and heart?

Brushing against your face,
Peeling off your gentle fate
My friend; won't you dare?
And step in the roaring lair?

For ashes and dust
Is this greyish world
So burn the flame
And light in fumes

Hear the tapping of your feet
And feel your sole melt away
On strange wooden lands
Sprinkled with blazing sand

Catch the pebbles
Struck at you
Let it burden till you grieve,
Or build the castle of your dream

Set ablaze, set ablaze
Set yourself ablaze;
Let yourself combust and scarred
And become the blazing star

I am the prodigal daughter
of Hestia--
Goddess of hearth,
warmth,
embers that do not fade,
for they glow as softly
as lightning bugs.

But this time,
I will not be returning home.

Don't you see?

I've burned it down already.

Perhaps there shall exist no redemption
for my pyromanic sins.

They could not save
Sylvia Plath
as she ****** her head into the oven,
carbon monoxide stealing away
her last strands of breath.

(Sadness climbs up my throat in
stalagmites of flame,
rises from the chasm of my soul like bile,
like a phoenix reborn.)

They could not save
Joan of Arc,
whose flesh screamed out among
the ringlets of fire
and threads of cinder
that consumed it
so mercilessly.

(No, I am not a witch--
just a demi-goddess,
just a dangerous woman
But, unlike Joan of Arc,
I am no Saint either.)

They could not save Pompeii
whose inhabitants lay
victimized
asphyxiated
stolen
by the magma regurgitated by
the Almighty Vesuvius

(I cannot decide who I am
more similar to--
the inhabitants of Pompeii,
or the lava itself)

Perhaps then,
there is no saving a woman like me--
a woman forged from brimstone,
Hell's very own Femme Fatale.

I wear lighter fluid
atop my collar bone like its fragrance;
braid singed ribbon into my hair,
its ends charred and
curling upwards like tendrils of smoke;
rouge my lips with gunpowder.

Kiss me and
bite the bullet, darling--
make love to me
and you will combust.

But oh!

How these men will  bite their lip
at the thought of
******* me,
of dipping their fingertips
into the molten pools
that dwell between my thighs
similar to the way
a mere girl
(I, 16 years old)
is fascinated by the prospect
of baptizing her own melancholic
hands in candle wax.

(Who's the real ******* here, Baby?


Sincerely,
your Filthy Pyrophilliac.)


I am a
shadow charmer,
arsonist
the  Siren
of this Inferno
(wanted for her crimes).

Perhaps I was never the epitome of darkness,
perhaps I simply
lured the darkness towards me
(sorrow and the devil too.)

It's funny now that I think about it,
how the stars too reside in darkness,
how, when I wish upon them,
I am really only wishing on fire.

And where there is fire,
there is destruction;
it's no wonder all these dreams--
those of
love
magic
poetry--
have shuddered to ash.

Still, l I find myself making
snow angels in the ashes,
stick my tongue out,
let the remnants of desire
scorch my taste buds.

Here I lie
like an extinguished cigarette,
my use fulfilled and discarded.
But that's just fate,
stars ain't too fond
of nicotine, ya see,
ain't too fond of me
even though the very atoms
that comprise my being
are made of the stuff of galaxies.

But, oh, how these galaxies
have escaped my brooding grasp.

I do whatever it takes
to re-ignite what has been
lost--
chew on matchsticks,
let the splinters sear themselves
into my tongue;
lap at the iridescent gasoline puddles
that wade along
lonely streets corners;
howl beneath paper lanterns,
for both the sun and the moon
have forsaken me.

I do whatever it takes
to remember where I come from--
a state of limbo,
wherein I am simultaneously
angel (falling) |and| demon (the fallen)

What am I without flame?

Flame--
they could not save me from it,
from burning.

But perhaps the peril was never in burning;
perhaps it was in  burning out;
perhaps it was in disintegrating.

Everything with us seems perfectly entwined,
Like Lego locking together,
It just fits like we should know but don't,
Is this another life lesson I wonder,

You are actually perfection on a plate,
All my wishes confirmed for my eye's to feast,
You listen, converse, laugh, speak sense,
Your like my concious more innocent,

When alone in my thoughts I know,
I fell in love along the way,
I'm evaporated by your honesty,
Our souls melt into the Ether,

Alien yet familiar fears dwell,
A fool for love and lust,
Heart brashly on sleeve,
Afraid I'll chemically combust,

I cant see your thoughts either,
Are you just honeymooning this new behaviour,
Don't misread that I'm wanting it fast,
My heart prays to God It will last,

All I need is something more concrete,
I cant sweep this away just for encase,
Every waking moment I long to embrace,
In you my love knew we would meet,

But for now we go with the flow,
Fear you will bin me for another,
All helplessly in love and lost,
I'm almost certain my heart'll pay the cost,

We lock just like Lego blessed from above,
Humanoid Lego a gift of true love.

© Susan Michelle Baker

Clash. Zap. Thunderclap.
Orbitals charged with electricity collide - feels like  crossing the streams
let's - smash atoms like Adam and Eve,
pierce fiercely with particles blown white hot from my accelerator
Insatiable
Like  trying to fill up a black hole, so i accelerate her
excite her, ignite her, my touch lights her on fire
combust.
a cloud of ecstasy like Co2  rises higher
I've got my eyes on your ions
take a picture it'll last longer?
snap a photo digitize her
particles turned pixels tilt their head skyward
transcendant enlightenment, released it inside her
E=mc^2 , i can please you at the speed of light
we just rewrote the big bang theory and this time we got it right
opposites attract and charged sparks fly
we might not touch but ion be ****** if we don't try
I'm a ****** intellectual
I love your body AND your mind.

Your taste runs like kerosene in my veins,
Our kisses, heated, sending my insides aflame;
    I spontaneously combust, lover.
Skin to skin, your mouth is concentrated sin
You make lose my morals, the lust is building;
    Blinding, my pupils burn;
Yours darken with something primal, tensions thickening;
The anticipation's sinking
   right into my gut, I feel your touch
   calloused fingertips dancing up my thighs, teasing.


Your body glistening
   with sweat, trailing down south
   I follow the track hungrily with my mouth
   but it doesn't seem enough.
Our hearts beat fast like the ticking
    of a timebomb nearing detonation;
    We're going to detonate, my love.
We're going to burst in fancy colors like fireworks gone haywire,
    the bed is our sky.
We're going to get lost among the sheets,
    like sailing across familiar seas.
The moonlight, dangerously bright
    they seem to shine from your eyes
    but they darken with something like clouds on a stormy night.


And I'm not sure if there really is a God
    but tonight I kept calling his name
    yours interspersed in between
    heavy breathing, our pants sounding
    like broken notes of some orchestrated masterpiece
    and the crescendo's nearing.
Our pulse following the rising melody
I am mesmerized, out of control
I am lost amidst the euphoria
    right now
    with you

Libidos high,
Thigh to thigh,
Fingers intertwined.
*******,
Perfection,
Under clothes we slide.
Quick to breathe,
Meeting sheets
As we depart from our chairs.
Nearly starved,
Back arched,
Hands pulling hair.
Sweet memory,
Reverie:
You all over me.
Quick kiss
To the hips,
Devour my body.
Make it ache,
Earthquake,
Start to tremble with lust.
Naked breast
On your chest,
Tick tock--COMBUST.
Rise higher,
Entice her,
****** desire.
Take me,
Embrace me,
A lover's empire.
Tongue to tongue,
Move as one,
Tangled forms we grasp.
Seduction,
Eruption
Sweet lovers' ******.

this planet holds together
gravitating humans
Through scalding chemicals
Chemicals staining our breath
(some ancient soliloquies never forgotten)
Atoms dying
And then living
Inside of our mortally immortal bodies
So be my rubidium
(I am oxygen)
And crave me and my words
We will explode and simultaneously
De-combust
Shattering the world around us
Releasing the angst of a lonesome soul and
tantalizing revelations of hope
the innate genius hidden in us
in
Rubidium and Oxygen

Galaxies, solar satellites, the very Earth and its plates.
Whatever matter spins the reality, each one rotates.
Every unique universe growing its own ebb and flow,
Same as an ocean shall pummel shores then pull undertow.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Backwater cementing a new variant of tributary,
Friends become fish in this river of machinery.
The roiling rubber current proves to combust with currency.
Success succumbs to numbers as the economist counts me.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Gingko trees employed rats until society's reaction
Assimilated this lineage and reset its traction.
A different dispersal mechanism does not merit lament,
The managed are mute within the worker's woeful testament.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Sometimes a quest of faith begets a set from a cartomancer,
What good would it do to bribe the tarot and fake her answer?
For doctrine to deprive a man of god's hero in himself,
To trial and tribute his death to ascend on our caste shelf.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Your cards at hand, as is any fact of fortune, are from you.
All around are landmarks to map your light, vibration, and hue.
A presence is an action amongst quintessential stage props,
Weathered roles rehearse their sonorous loves watching ripples drop.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Turbid fury has no footholds on the great movement in your mind,
Gears that we hear were once a pursuit to prosper as mankind.
To disarm the victim's rights and loosen all nooses may seem odd,
Yet Devil deviates design and is forgiven by God.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Cities yearn to scrape skies built on products at the world's splendor.
Though trinkets become trite as we glorify a greedy vendor.
How could one commend such a clear farce for the multitude?
Selling milk to children's bones while our livestock store false fortitude.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Lifespans expand within this ****** twilight of barbarism.
History obscures so we light turned pages with euphemism.
Often forgotten is that our memory is amorphous,
Generating our boldest fears and cheers to those beyond us.
When its the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Pessimism or optimism; are not rivals of ones structure
Secular submission denies despair's innate rupture
It is built by the hopeful to share love after given grace
To construct a profound unity above pride's titled race
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

We are taught to worry for unruly folk until weary.
Doctors like leaders treat symptoms not seeing sickness clearly.
They stress the distressed to disseminate imminent spines,
Shattering that last vestige of a will searching between lines.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

The commandments should have demanded there always be one more,
As truth evolves in jollies or follies, being rich or poor.
Always a witness to your lemons that could squeeze a profit.
Limits can be more than second hands surpassing the minute.
When is the time? Are you a counter of clockwork?

Thus old cogs and smog of our familiar faculties rest
On the zealous peals of those who know at the hour of our best.
It is not easy to lift volition past sadness so steep.
As each day would raise a mile, we may grow to smile when we sleep
Now is the time, are you a counter or clockwise?

No, I don't think you understand how rare it is for me to like you

To just find you attractive because that is fairly common for me

But actually like you like you

Because those are two very different things

Attraction and affection

No, I meant Affection

It should be capitalized

What I mean is

I don't like ALOT of things

Seriously

I’m freaking negative

I am the queen of all pessimism

I don't like:

Bad grammar

When people pronounce words wrong

People who say Pacifically instead of Specifically

Overly optimistic people Example:(Oh your family is in thousands of
dollars of debt your sister just killed herself and your boyfriend just
cheated on you with your mom and you're pregnant with the baby of
the guy who got you drunk and slept with you without your sober permission who happens to have just moved to Asia to escape having to care for you and his baby? Well, you have your health!) –stab-

The number 9 it sounds like it’s on the edge of something. I hate wishy-
washy numbers that don’t go all the way. Resolve to ten already!!!

Movies where there is a completely impossible happy ending thanks to spontaneous magic

Apple juice

Most flowers

Pink (the color)

The Sun

The month of April

Girls who don’t know how to wear pants. Or a shirt. Seriously. Those aren’t shorts. That’s just a belt that ***** at being a belt.

People who try to ****** me

People who freak out at me when I try to ****** them

Mondays

Tuesdays

Wednesdays

Thursdays

Fridays

Saturday­s

Sundays

F!CKING MONDAYS AND TUESDAYS

When people pronounce french words WRONG

PEOPLE who pronounce french words wrong

Reality TV

Holidays that don't even get you a day off from school

Ducks that are yellow. THEY DON’T EXIST the bath toy company is LYING TO YOU

Sticky hands

The color yellow

The color orange

Colors that just seem too… happy. It makes me want to light them on
fire. And impale them.

Obnoxious hair colors

Girls who wear jeans and skirts simultaneously

Overly colorful rainbows

When people talk into your ear and you can feel their warm breath.

Being drenched in water

Character or word limits

Signs

When I get all disappointed because I dreamed someone I hated got hit by lightning and it doesn’t come true

When I wish really REALLY ******* a star but it just doesn’t come true. Then I have to go and fill the grave I had all dug up for them.

Plastic hangers

Man, I HATE plastic hangers

Walking

Running

Standing

Any kind of action that doesn’t include limply lying around

When I look at someone with extreme loathing and they don’t spontaneously combust. It’s very sad.

Raisins

When you THINK it’s a chocolate chip cookie and it turns out to be
raisins. MAIN REASON I HAVE TRUST ISSUES!

But, I do like you.

That’s saying something.

I LIKE YOU.

Really.

Honest.

But you don’t realize how rare that is.

:P

…God, I’m so violent. I should have that looked at...

Well, there's your positivity for the day

Three summers ago
I loved a boy
who's hair when moved
by wind or hand
was always magical,
who possessed tanned skin
and eyes so blue
they were waters to drown in.
Around him I felt enchanted
and he was enthralling.
He captivated me,
turned me into a slave of my emotions,
with words and promises
I knew he couldn't make come true.
"Run," my friends urged me, "as fast as you can."
But without him life was jaded,
their warning
had been voiced too late.
Already I had pricked my finger,
on a spinning wheel
and fallen head over heels
in that chemically induced slumber
we sometimes call love.
He opened a door for me that led straight
into a world filled with
bushes of roses
and buckets of sunshine,
I promptly forgot that too much sunshine
scalds the skin
and turns it a burning, vivid red,
almost as vivid
as the crimson blood
a touch from the thorns of roses draws.
I knew I had been warned so I stayed there
bleeding and burning,
swearing to myself as I suffered
that I would never again
give my heart to someone
who would not give me theirs in return.

This summer, three years later,
being around you
means feeling like being able to combust spontaneously
and I cannot forget
the sensation of my skin in contact with yours.
It made me realise
that though I have always loved you,
I started loving you a little bit too much.
You are my every thought.
They say you never make the same mistake twice,
that it is your own stupid fault the second time around.
But if it really was a choice
why then is it
that I spend all my nights these days
pleading with the universe
to let me unlove you.

At seven I heard the story of Peter Pan;

Growing up wasn't part of his plan.

I wish he'd fly through my window sill,

When the stars are bright and the lakes are still.

I would ask him to take me to Neverland,

Where growing up has always been banned,

And never planned.

I'd never have to hear my parents fight,

Everything would finally be alright.

He'd take me through the sky in one big leap,

Over rivers and through mountains steep.

Second star to the right.

Straight on till morning; through the night.

To Neverland.


I'd meet the infamous Tinkerbell,

I knew we'd get on well.

I’d hear her jibber-jabber,

Among the laughter.

I could see Mermaid Lagoon,

As we sink Captain Hook's platoon.

I can join the lost boys; form a family.

Away from the land of the ******; my ruthless reality.

Meet the brave Tiger-Lily,

We could be perfectly silly.

And meet the crocodile who tried to **** time, eating a clock.

Tick tock, tick tock.

I may be able to find a treasure trove.

Maybe I can make a home in a cozy cove.

Peter and I would be as thick as thieves,

I’d make him a crown of leaves.

We will live forever.

To age, we will never surrender.

To live will be an awfully big adventure.

Too far from Peter, I'd never venture.

All you need is faith, trust and pixie dust,

Or you might just combust.


You just have to believe

and you will never have to grieve

and no one would ever leave.

I'd never have to be strong.

I'd never have to care for long.

So let us begin the journey.

To Neverland.

My timeless eternity.

My fantasy.

My delightful daydream.

My bittersweet destiny.

My dreams of Neverland have yet to cease.

And I am already in my late teens.

Love is like a disease it spreads.
Hatred is an itch when you keep
Scratching it. It Fester an kills you.

When i think about the things I've said.
Feelings I felt. I melt inside.
It turns my in sides out.
My heart combust
An I hate myself.
Why are I not enough.
Denial will have you walk for miles.
Sorrow is a sweet after taste of a sucker punch of truth.
Loneliness is only a symptom.
An that to will pass.


I am a enigma of feeling. I cry when the rain falls to hard. When the wind blows in the wrong directions. I'm poetic. I'm also a stepping stone. The men I've let erase my soul an rewrite my blueprint. The salty tears I cry are almost symbiotic. Another symptom. Like a sonnet short an sweet. Running in a circle walking a fine line. Waiting to leap. Is it a crime to work 9 to 9. Roller coaster emotinal train wreck. An I think to myself who will love me.



I bare myself to the pit an it asks me if I'll jump. I reply not today. Slumped down I step closer to the edge. I reenact self destructive behaviors daily. Am I considered an addict. I seek validation from namless phantoms. I named them my self conscious. Are you listening my beating heart gets louder. I order cream an chowder. Sips slow on estacy. Love an lust sleep next to me. I'm smothered in one while I'm blocked to the other. Exits are closed off I think where is my mother.  I shudder remembering I'm alone.

The Story** begins with silence and black out, a void. Not darkness. Nor anything that attempts to define nothingness, because it’s nothing. The blackness or void is only a metaphor representing nothing. Within this point, so close to simultaneous you’d think they were one in the same, a light emerges, emanating divine, pure energy and love.  Its intelligence and complexity expands and fills what was once nothing with beauty and truth. At this moment, all is whole, fast as thought, strong beyond comprehension, gentle as a whisper and furious beyond all flame. The wild spirit of happiness is real and alive! The void was never the enemy, only a point in which to be born. Duality can only exist if unification finds an enemy within itself. The enemy is reflected by the segregation and space created between divine and mortal. This space is developed by Ego.

   This entity “Ego” is the essence of self resistance, absorption, chaos, consciousness…hate. The inner antagonist rises and begins to cut and eliminate the threads attached to creation and spirit. A mirror that envelopes and contains the living spirit.  An orb caging vulnerable souls spread throughout the expansion of life and suffocating energetic flow.  The universe and it’s creatures that lost connection being virtually incapable of seeing one another ever again while the enemy exists.

   The instigation is tolerated by those who always continue the journey. The emasculation of Ego, commences as the divine resonates it’s vibration as a weapon like a solar flare, piercing the Ego. Then the inner spirit begins to open up and claw its way out. The Spirit sees that vanity is leading the despair of self pity into the heart as it remains a vessel dwelling in a false world channeling a false force. This awareness makes The Spirit lifts up, against and out of a matrix constructed within the crystal ball cage that refracts the true sun’s rays. Together, The Spirit and The Divine begin to crush Ego. Ego begins to flatten, compress and then combust. Through the flames the chord of love between The Divine and The Spirit bursts like a shooting star towards the kinship’s re-established nexus. The collision creates what was pure and full in circulation again and the expansion becomes an infinite motion harmonizing with the void in an adventure that goes on forever. When Ego tries to slither back in after a nearly insurmountable time of hiding between the gaps that contains new life, it is given no room by anything in thought, theory, in any form of existence.

When they tell you you are made of stars,
do not let them forget what stars are made of.
Stars are not glitter, not stickers on the ceiling,
not there for decoration.
Stars are chunks of collapsing galaxy. They are
hundred-thousand mile wide nuclear furnaces
that consume their surroundings into death.
They are not friendly; they do not exist
to write poems about.
Stars are not made of metaphors. You
are not made of other people’s words.

When they tell you you are made of stars.
look them in the eye and remind them
that so are they, and so is the earth,
and so is the gum on the bottom of your shoes,
and so is the fist you will hit them with
the next time they try to placate you
with their condescending words –
When they tell you you are different from others,
ask them why you should want to be.

Do not let them call you foreign.
Do not let them trap you up on a pedestal,
surrounded by books that cannot hurt them.
Read things that can hurt them.
Your mind is a forest richer than folklore;
do not let your curiosity be reduced to an accessory.
Your intelligence is not a fashion statement.
Your existence is not a novelty.
You are not a metaphor
for someone else’s problems.

When they tell you you are made of stars,
tell them you have always known this.
Tell them you have fire in your bone marrow,
that you are burning with the deaths
of the entire universe before you.

When they tell you you are made of stars,
tell them you know.
Tell them they should keep their distance.

I'll ask you not to turn off the lights,
I want them to blind me
with their brilliant filaments
until the bulbs break
like a vase on a tiled floor,
the walls, the door go back
to being charcoal black
as they have been so many times before.

I have started to abhor
the roads that define me,
the words that describe me
and my traits,
the way I must walk in wintery air
to a migraine inducing wilderness
to be squashed into old moulds,
will this be adequate for you now and when?

What is this fall,
does it affect you, your actions,
your jumbled jigsaw piece thoughts?
These bruises are purple,
this brain is strained,
inject me with zest
until my wrist pains
so much it must combust.

Out of the glass is nothing,
a candyfloss cloud, a tree, a lawn,
it bores me,
an artist is needed,
paint a new canvas
swathed in colour
and things from my weekend dreams
lucid and intense.

I am a ******* up ball
of paper, unfold me, still legible?
Fold it again, an airplane
chucked into an angry breeze
or please,
if the lamps are tough enough,
watch my words illuminate,
drool across the table.

If I were a solivagant star in space,
I'd link arms with the universe
and have her tell me that
all this pain was worth it,
that something golden would
blossom from it,
maybe then I'd be more focused
on planting seeds instead of
always drowning in the weeds
of my blackened psyche.

I'd burn, explode,
spontaneously combust,
and no one would tell me
that to confirm was all I
had to aspire to,
no one would be around
to make me feel like
too much of a burden,
as if I feel too much too quickly,
too warm, too much, too fiercely.

If I were truly solivagant,
I'd have no reason to cry
when asked "How are you?"
I would not avoid the
ever familiar question
"How was your day?"

Wanderlust would consume me
and I'd search for hidden gold,
space would not cheat me,
would not let me crumble and fold.

My tears would be of use,
they'd fall on clouds as messengers
to rain upon the seeds on earth,
to give life to the breathing dead.

I think I'd love to be
a solivagant star in space,
no magic tricks would be needed,
no quizzes to tell me
that I belong in this place.

with every click of Their tongues,
i am acquiescent.
Their words fill my lungs,
audible discontent.

i swallow Their disgust,
mostly misinterpreted,
i nonchalantly combust,
now i am free.