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Words And Fire:
Sun

The death of passion can be catastrophic
But if you look at a nebula,
You know even death can leave behind something beautiful.

That’s what we are now.
Colourful gasses floating apart,
Like a portrait.

We didn’t eclipse,
You and I,
We were a supernova.

We collapsed into words and then expanded into fire.

I used to call this place home,
But it seems empty now, with a grand bed and lonely arms.

You were the catalyst to my nature full of fleeting sensibilities.

You were the punctuation on my nights when I was too lonely to sleep.

You were to reason to climb the barren branches of my brain, to come up with a clever word.

My voice was proud for you.

You aren’t here.
I let you down.
I’m a rorschach test without you, open to interpretation.
A taxi driven human being, letting others choose my destination.

I’m full of segregated emotions and sorry answers.

I procrastinated love.
I procrastinated your worth.
I put off my sensibilities and gave into animal tendencies.

I was an improper probability.
An illegitimate gentlemen.

I used to call this place home.

It used to be you…

But, now I know, I never knew the meaning of the word.

I used to dream of a quite house.
Back when I lived with laughter.
Siblings who never knew how to sleep soundly.
Afraid of the dreams that would come after.

Night terrors plagued one and
Attention, the other.
They’d rise at dawn
Simply to wake their mother.

Now I live in silence
In a home with no heating.
It’s such a simple thing
A home with no feeling.

Now I’ve got the silence,
Except for the ringing in my ear.

—————
S.F.

Polly Wants a Lover

Beware the Parrot,
The mimic,
The mime.

Beware the Parrot
His lusty
Long full smiles.

The Parrot knows
Songs
Full of fruitful lies.

He can fly
And sing
For miles.

Beware the Parrot,
The mirror
The mime.

He knows just
How to
Roost inside your mind.

He peeks
And pecks
And peers

And talks
And tears
And takes.

Beware the Parrot
The bird who
loves his words.

Beware the Parrot
The hypocrite
The thief.

——- S.F.

I’ve heard
On more than one occasion

"I loved you."
Past tense.

What sort of unloveable shield I must seem
To guard from such things.

Or perhaps it’s my fault
For admiring their beauty

But never holding their soul.

Never Kissing something you can’t press your lips against

I was too private with my love.
Too selfish with my heart
To even know sacrifice.

Two times
“I loved you.”

Never
I love you.

Never
Love me.

lookhowmuchbetteriamthanyou:

Maybe,
I am the hell spawn of the earth.
Driven to depth,
Unfamiliar.

Perhaps I am the devil.
Perhaps I am darker,
Then I would have no control
Over the shadows that hang over.

Shadows of self pity
And shadows of prime evil.

Then, no longer
A man I would, a man, a man and a believer.

A believer in the guard above.
Believer in the scythe.

Believe that

Eighty Sixed

I buried my love in a shallow grave,

And every one visits it often
to tell me the stories 
of how I never perceived her.

But all I think of 
are bones, 
Clinging to fraudulent sensations
long since gone.

Diner’s Little Secret

The Diner just before the corner
shifts it’s weight onto one foot
And peers with jealousy
at the local couples passing by
(Who’s minds aren’t full of hunger)
They’d follow some urge
to get inside all other buildings

The Diner felt lonely.

Read More

Bigger

I’m some forgotten piece of driftwood
where the days spent wasted
floating there.
Some lost possibility. 

I’ve been rotting in the sea. 

I imagine I’m a piece of something bigger
A tree
or a ship maybe.
That I used to be a complex jigsaw that made a community. 
A puzzle that ate away at the unknown. 

That stood there 
or sailed for a purpose.
To give our planet it’s breath. 
to follow the wind on the oceans current. 

I imagine I’m bigger than myself
that I’m not lost,
cast aside,
forgotten. 

Night - a new found bitter word.
And the stars are more like laughing jack-o’-lanterns 
howling at my misfortune
Than directions home.

I curse the sea.

I curse the sun.

I curse the water.

                                                 I curse myself. 
Seemingly, a life of purgatory. 
Never going up.
Never sinking down. 

Driftwood does not have the means to move hearts.
or scorn the fear into them. 

It 
Just 
Floats.

                      - S.F.

Pattern

Falling in love.
For a moment
That grin reaches your soul
You know where you stand.

And the clouds 
Start to dim.

Enough

Please don’t wake me up
I’m not ready to be forgot

Just leave all my
letters on the floor
They weren’t bold enough.

I held your hand
when you were afraid
Tell me I loved you enough.

I took my heart
put it in a cage
I wasn’t strong enough.

Just tell me I loved you enough.

All those girls
That came by that day
They just weren’t
"You" enough.

I’ve lamented over things I’ve never had
I’ve cried over what I’ve lost
I’ve cursed the heavens for what they’ve wrought

but never looked into my own thoughts
Never felt my own heart, touch by anothers hands

What way is that to live 

I ask?

Emptiness holds no answer.

Orphan

He never knew his father
Or his mother

And that "home" 
that was thrust upon him

sounded more like tomb
to the child whom was ripped out of the womb

by steel blade from a 
slowly disintegrating parent

making it apparent that
he was alone

and some foster home
with misunderstanding tendencies 

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My humanity evaporates with you,
I’m like a water bottle thrown into the sun

I’m short fused, like a victim of water boarding
near a water gun. 
it’s not fun.