interrupted somewhere in mid-bloom…

I know I’ve said this a million times before, but it’s really over this time. I don’t love Kevin anymore. At least not in the sense that I used to. I said I would love him forever, and I meant that. I will. But I don’t love him like I did at all anymore. I have let go. There is nothing he could do or say to me that would affect me adversely. I am free of the vulnerability that comes with loving someone as much as I did him. I’m not even sure why I decided to fall right back into the same disaster with him, after being separated for several months. As much as I may have wanted things to work with him, I had a hard time convincing myself that it would become a reality. He sure likes to talk about things and never do them. I was very patient about almost everything when it came to us. But after so long, you just start to see where something is going and where it isn’t going.

I feel like I’ve wasted a couple years of my life that I can’t have back. I spent them trying to “get somewhere” with Kevin, because I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life. That reminds me…the last time I saw him, he started talking about how lonely and bleak things were for him around the time that we met, and at other points since then. He started to cry a little even, as he told me that I had saved his life. It was precious. I loved him more at that moment than I could have felt love for anything else. So I said: “I think I saved it so you could spend the rest of it with me.” He was quiet for a second, then he repeated my words very softly and just said “wow” afterwards. I am looking for that moment right now. I’m holding onto it as tightly as I held on to him that night, the last time we saw each other. It meant something then, even if it doesn’t now.

I guess that I had hoped for progress by now. It’s been two and half years since we met and got together, or sort of got together. It was almost that long ago that he asked me to marry him, and I said yes. Obviously that never happened. I guess he didn’t take the question very seriously. Or didn’t think I would say yes. Either way, I think it was wrong of him to throw it around so carelessly. Anyhow. I didn’t have any unrealistic goals for 2 1/2 years into a relationship. I just wanted some sort of progress, whatever that would have been. Instead I have nothing.

That’s not true, actually. I have something even greater than all of that was. Something that was strong and good, and which served me well long before I ever met Kevin or anyone else. Something that will reopen like a flower now that he’s gone, starting right back up blooming like it was when it was interrupted. Me.

I remember being happy right before meeting him. Then there was a brief period of head-over-heels infatuation in which everything was ridiculously good (or seemed to be), you know the kind I mean. Then all the shit started. That’s when the ugliness and pain come into play. They sure can fuck a person’s world up, can’t they? MmmHmmm. So then there’s this long stretch that covers most of the time we spent together, where we are both more or less miserable for most of the time, getting into arguments too frequently to forgive anything before one of us took the next stab and started all over again with it. Then whatever the fuck you want to call this last little pipe-dream delusion that I allowed myself to indulge in for a little while, deciding for some fucking stupid reason that it would be a good idea for me to pour everything I have into being with him and finding a way to stay together forever. Don’t ask me why the fuck I thought that after all the moving in and moving back out, all the fighting, all the cruel words, all the carelessness with one another, I thought it was smart to give anything and everything to him, just so he would know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I love him and that it is unconditional and without end. It didn’t work. But I know it’s not me. It wasn’t because I did something wrong, or didn’t do something that I should have. I know that in my heart, and my mind agrees with it. It is something to do with him. I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t really matter. For some reason he either doesn’t want what he claimed to want with me, or can’t deal with something necessary in order for that to happen, or maybe he’s just a fucking complete liar that really fucking got the better of me. I don’t like the possibility of that last option. I swear to fucking god, if he was another Chad or David I will hate myself for a little while for letting that happen again. It’s hard for me to believe that I could fall for something like that again. Fuck all three of them.

-Mona

I talked my way through this one

I got away

For the moment
So I thought
I’d run away
And instead
I ended up
With you again
Today

You just won’t go
Away
And if you do
Maybe after all this time
I wouldn’t be able
To let you go
I don’t know
I think I could
If you were ready
I think I would

If only you could
Have better understood
What was behind
My words
In the front of my mind
Not sure you knew
The fucking unbelievable kind
Of something
That I had for you
In my heart
It was something
But it was everything

Where do I go
When I go?
I don’t know
But I know
I go there alone

I wish you would
Close your eyes
And trust me to
Guide you through
The fire
That you said you’d
Walk into for me

It’s still blazing
And amazing
And it’s right there

So where do you go

When you go?
Take me with you
I’ll be along for the ride
At your side
Forgetting false prides
Getting down to
The real shit
Guts and insides
King & Queens
Grooms & brides
Secrets safely
Being told
Promises as solid
As gold
Sacred
Can’t be sold
Too bright
Our light
To let us be cold

I want to take care
Of you
And stare
At you
I want to look at you
Long enough
To melt
You make me
Feel feelings
I have never felt
And I see them
With my feelings
Don’t question me
I have my millions
Of reasons
Don’t doubt my love
It’s greater
Than a thousand
Hurricanes per season
I’m sorry
But I’m just not leaving

I just can’t
We’re not done
With this dance
We both thought
We were taking
The same chance
But I think that
All that meant
Was that we were
Both afraid
Of the same things
Turning your back
On an ocean like this
Can be fatal
The deadliness
And depth
Of such betrayal

I don’t want
To cause you pain
That was never
My hope
Or some game
Only a series
Of wrong turns
That we both
Made
Look what we’ve made
And what we’ve made
It through
We’re still here
And I know I’m still
In love
With you
Stay in it with me
Please?

See those perfect
Sand dunes
Flawless in the
Moonlight
Stretching out
Throughout
The time
That’s been
Yours & mine
Reach out and
Touch them
Spanish Smooth
Stay there
Don’t move
Just breath
Here with me
My head on your chest
It’s you over here
Separated
From the rest

Here is your gift
I hope it’s still me
You better know
How much I love you
Here
Have a cookie flower
It’s yours
To devour
Will you be mine
And let me give you
Everything I ever can?
I’m your favorite person
But I’m also your biggest fan
Hold my hand

writing under the influence

sometimes when I do a hit, I get a strong urge to write. usually when that happens, I do my best to resist it. I guess I’ll never forget my very 1st experience writing something when I was higher than a fucking kite. I remember writing it…I filled page after page because I was trying to quickly handwrite my oh so “profound” observations and their subsequently revolutionary philosophy. Ha, ha, ha. I recall how fast my hand was moving, it was trying to keep up with my brain. The only problem was that it was moving really rapidly in reverse. I just kept expanding on this thought-provoking concept and hoping that I wouldn’t forget any of the details before getting them onto the paper. Well…so I finished, or thought that I had finished…at that point, I had been awake for somewhere around 5 days or so. That was really typical during that period of time. I pretty much passed out once every fucking five days, and slept like a corpse for a fuckload of hours, then woke up and did it all over again. And again. And again…so I come to some sort of conclusion or closing thought, then shortly afterwards I fade out and don’t wake again until several hours later. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t until I’d been awake for quite a while that I all of a sudden remembered that I had filled all those pages right before fallilng asleep. Upon remembering, I got all excited when I remembered how brilliant it had been, and felt really glad that I had preserved it by getting it all written down. But what’s funny is that I had no idea at all what the topic had been. Not a fucking clue. I guess that’s how goddamn tired I had been when I had written it. So I wasn’t sure what the subject of it was, but I think that made the anticipation of reading it even greater because I was so confident that regardless of what it was, it had been pure genius. I believe I was smiling in a sort of gloating sort of way, when I opened up to the first page and set out to re-visit the whole thing.

Okay…first of all, my handwriting started out as legible letters that I seemed to have put together in patterns that would be recognized as words. However, that was only true for about half of the first page. I wish that was an exaggeration or a joke. It’s not. After that, it all continued to go downhill. Oh yeah, and even the first few sentences that were actual english, they made almost no sense at all in the arrangement I had put them. So I’m not sure if that even counts as anything good. It might as well have been total gibberish. It was. But it went from that to being sloppier more slanted attempts at the letters of the alphabet (I seem to have blanked out what those were at the time, though…) that were shrinking in size. In perfect timing with the shrinking of my brain, apparently. ha.

I was shocked by the time I got to the end of the last page. And yes, my pride got its ass kicked. bad. it sucked. I was just glad I was the only person who had seen it and known that I was the one who’d written this big bunch of nothing, thinking it was worthy of an intellectual erection. It was actually really depressing in a rather significant way though, all joking aside. I mean, it totally discouraged me from ever writing anything swimming around inside my skull when I was rushing or when I was anywhere else along the long stretch of consciousness leading to delirium and ending in very deep sleep that had no room for dreams. and that was kind of gay. having discovered my pathetic scribbles, I was convinced that writing was never a good idea when my brain was a sponge soaked in a caustic chemical cocktail. seemed logical enough. Knowing that I had been really fucking high at the time, I attributed the failure of the little experiment to the ways in which I’d been altered by the drug. It was the reason that my thoughts were empty and senseless. And it definitely explaiend why I had thought something empty and senseless was worthy of making its way into textbooks around the world. hey, you’ve heard of those people that get all fucked up on hallucinogens and end up on the news for jumping off the top of a skyscraper, thinking they had superhero powers. you know the ones I’m talking about. the ones that set the fucking standard for everyone that “uses.” “Textbook Tweaker” may be a bit politically incorrect, but you get the idea. I remember in high school, our fucking health textbooks were hilarious. The stupid and completely unnecessary pictures that public school textbooks come complete with, all featured people with hair styles and fashion trends that were older than everyone in my class who was being forced to read it. Upon referring to the copyright date, the useless wastes of paper and time were in fact somewhere close to thirty years old. So…it was at least good to know that the information we were being force-fed was accurate, current, and was effective in its presentation. fucking please. It might as well have informed us that the world is in fact flatter than a fucking pancake. Most of it was too retarded to even remember anything specific, the only two examples that stick out in my memory as being particularly hilarious were the short paragraphs on the topics of homosexuality and hallucinogenic drugs. The homo paragraph, which was actually only 2-3 sentences, was rather insightful and informed its readers that the cause of homosexuality was unknown and it was uncelear why some people seemed affected by it rather than the majority of ‘normal’ people. And over in the substance abuse section of the book, we find an equally well-researched collection of about 4-5 sentences explaining that those who engage in substance abuse of hallucinogenic drugs typically experience an array of horrible and highly exaggerated symptoms, including the delusion of possessing superhuman powers, attempting dangerous and oftentimes deadly stunts believing themselves capable of supernatural things, or othewise behaving in ways which are humiliating and shameful as a result of a ‘bad trip’.

I mean…I’ve never written a high school level health education textbook before, but I HAVE done a lot of fucking drugs that would fall into their ‘hallucinogenic’ category. And I’ll just say that in the years I have spent using and around others who use as well, I consider msyelf pretty familiar with the whole environment surrounding that sort of sub-culture, if you think it could be called one. And I haven’t ever actually witnessed anyone on a ‘bad trip’ that was bad enough to think you turned into the hulk and jump off the empire state building. You know? C’mon. I know a lot of people who have tripped out real fucking bad, because I’ve heard stories from many of them about their embarassing tweaker trip. everyone has had theirs. Hell, I used to trip out pretty fucking bad…not just once either, it used to happen fairly often. That is common among anyone that clouds their cranium with speed. Duh. But anyways, even those that have been on a really bad one tend to sort of even out over time, as a result of developing a tolerance. That has been my experience. I don’t get fucked up anymore like I did back when I was new to it. I just can’t. believe me, sometimes I really want to. Heh. But over the course of a couple years during which I am using on a regular basis, my body at some point adjusts to the speed no differently than it would to an antibiotic prescribed for long-term use. Makes sense. My point was that even at my most pathetic and fucked up moment during my worst trip, I have never been found anywhere near the edge of insanity, or the roof of a building that I’m fixing to jump from, since I am spider-man. Nor do I know anyone, or know OF anyone who has been near the edge of either of those things. Oops, wait. Yes, I do. Just one person. But they suffered from a mental illness prior to ever using drugs, so that would probably amplify the mania resulting from both. Not applicable.

How the hell did I stray so far from whatever I was originally trying to say? I do that sometimes. Tangent trailing…

Oh, right. My entire reason for giving that whole weird little background info was to give a good example of the attitude I had towards the idea of tweaking and then trying to write anything with intellectual significance. I guess after my botched brilliance that was less than nothing, I sort of laughed at the idea of writing under the influence. So following this whole stupid little mistake, I didn’t write anything at all for right around a year. I think it was supposed to happen the way it all played out, actually. Because during that year I avoided pen and paper, I probably really had no business trying to do anything with either. Again, that was back when I was new to it. It was new to me too. Its effect on me was quite simply too intense for me to control at the time. The sequence of events was in some sort of harmony with my creativity that I had sort of temporarily given up on, and not bothered to go looking for. So after a year, I’m at a much different phase in my “addiction.” I have become far more functional and the effect of the drug on my mind is no longer the uncontrollable flickering of thoughts one after another as fast as you can bat your eyes. It has slowed down enough by now to finish one train of thought, and to evaluate it from the spot you’re in as you look in on it, from start to finish, not like before when I was seeing something one way and then looking at the same thing as I hung upside down over it, like riding a rollercoaster through perception.

Trying to write again hadn’t really ever crossed my mind. Since it had been so long since I had written, I suppose I had become used to doing other things. And that’s around the time when I met Kevin. Very shortly after we first met, he wrote me something really amazing that surprised me in a way I had not expected anyone would or could. That first piece made two things really obvious. He knew how to write, and rather well. That would have been apparent to anyone who knew good writing. And then there was his style, which was one that I understood and felt connected to. I didn’t just know he could write, I actually really liked what he wrote.

That’s where I trailed off…think I faded and had to go to sleep. Anyways, I usually don’t return to something I left unfinished. But I guess I was really close to being done with this, so I’ll just go ahead and say what was left unsaid, since it is all worth saying. I really loved what Kevin had written, it was not only excellent writing but it was his style that really appealed to me. I felt that I absolutely had to sit down and put something into words as a gift for him in return. I needed to, I knew I had to, and I wanted to more than anything. So I did. And the rest is history. It became a sort of ongoing exchange of writings for one another over the course of our relationship, and even up until present day it is something that we do from time to time. I believe that credit should be given where credit is due, and Kev gets pretty much all of the credit for resurrecting my flame of creativity, as well as awakening my sleeping heart and for so many other things. I love him for all of that and so much more. I love him because he is Kevin Quirke. I have loved him since I read his first email written to me, before we ever met or even spoke on the phone. I remember reading it at Brian’s desk at his apartment in Wilsonville and getting a sense of significance from what he wrote. I knew he meant something then, and it has turned out to be so much more than I could ever have imagined. Thank you, Kevin. I love you forever.

-Attro

losst

everything was
left to chance
leaving nothing
in anyone’s hands
so what now?
this doesn’t mean
I know how
to pick up
the mess you’ve
made of me
or how to
sculpt a new
self

I think that
all of this
has made
me want
to give up
being so
human
for a while
it’s never
been my
style
I really lose
my taste
for it
after I
go through
such a pile
of shit
that I was
sure started out
as something else

I have no need
for you
and I never did
my skin
starts to crawl
at the memory
of it all
thinking back
on the
crippling comfort
that was found
in the discomforting
misery of running
around and around
the same set
of circles
with you
for you
in the name of
replacing
me
and you
to make us

I didn’t fall
into any spell
that drew me
to you
I want to
make it clear
that I never
fell
into any sort
of love
for
with
or having
to do
with anything
about you
I can say
anything
to your face
and be
totally unmoved
every word
of it
is true
at some point
I may have
thought I knew
why my thoughts
were what they
seemed to be
once upon that
time ago
but now I know
how I arrived
at each little
mind-mistake
you were my
mistake
that at some point
I made the
mistake of
confusing with
another idea
It’s no wonder
you failed me
as badly
as you did
there was never
any way you
could have done
what was right
for me
if you were
the wrong one
my pride
and my ego
thought you
and your
helpless adoration
were a lotta fun
but that was all
I tried to tell you
after all

I am glad
that you
happened
and I am glad
that you’re over
when I derail
from this
train of thought
you will be
lying on it’s tracks
and I will be
unboarding
and you won’t
cross my mind
in any real way
for what I
can feel
will be
a very long
time

I’m not trying
to forget you
I’m trying to
remember
when things
were good
or at least
before they
got bad
when my
mind’s eyes
squint backwards
through my
memory
and I can
barely even
see
the scene
set for disaster
that is already
on its way
I realize
what it looks like
from so far away
the faded memory
that is all
that’s left
for me to see
today
It is so long ago
and lost
that I guess
I just got
lost with it
and didn’t even
know
lost and loss
are not the same
losing you
is finding me
you’re fading
into being forgotten
in my memory

Letting Go

it’s past
the point
of caring
I will
always be
me
I refuse
to insist
to be heard
by anyone
uninterested
I have
no interest
in them
there are
some mistakes
that I won’t
ever make
again
some of the
things
I gave to you
I will never
let go of
again

so I’ll keep
them all
here to myself
with myself
it’s where
I’ll stay
every day
it’s where
you can find me
if you ever
need to
or if I ever
someday
just show up
in your thoughts
unexpectedly
as part of
a series
of strong
memories
in case I ever
become part
of the way
you remember
things

when you
let go
you will
know
that I know
what I can
and can’t
handle
for the sake
of being
okay
it might make
no sense
at all
to you
but that
doesn’t mean
it isn’t true

flowers that bloom
into monsoons
of color and life
are still
flowers that die
in the same way
you and I
have wilted away

I won’t stop
making my way
in whatever way
I choose
I can’t ever lose
a loss like
you
again
I took
one last
risk
that we
agreed
was worth
taking
and it was
even if we
did lose
every last little
bit that
we bet
instead of
fading out
we burn
into our
descent
like a
strong-willed
sunset
leaving
an unmistakable
silhouette
free of regret
looks like
the smile
from the
frist night
we met

breaking together
in a way
that can’t be
overlooked
figuring out
what this ending
is really about
it’s something
we already know
that letting go
is harder
than love
lets us know

Left Open

left open
like a book
abandoned
half way
through
folded back
at the corner
to mark
the page
that will
never be
turned
the other
half
of this book
is nothing
but
blank pages
stopped
in the middle
of a sentence
a dialogue
that seems
and sounds
to be going
somewhere
that
drops off
into empty
page
after
page

better not
ever return
to a story
with no ending
once you
reach
and read
that marked
page
all you have
left to do
is close it
reopen it
and read
the same
half
over and over
again
and again
no matter
how many
times you
read it
it doesn’t have
an end

so I spent
enough
of wasting
time
time that
has been
lost forever
that could
have been
mine
that I tried
to give
to you
so there
could be
an us
but about
half way
through
I fell just
as hard out
as I did in
love with you
it isn’t true
anymore
what are
we doing
what do we
think we’re
fighting for

a lost cause
year and
a half long
pause
that resumes
just to
walk
taking
one step
backwards
and another
and another
until we
hate each other

sometimes
this time
to love
is to have
to let go
I know
you know
the truth

walking away
don’t look
back
because it
wasn’t
for lack
of love

the harder way
becomes
what is right
even if we
win
we lose
every fight
and along
with it
losing sight
of whatever
half thought-out
little fantasy
we had
in mind
all that time
exists forever
in two minds
that need now
to bury all of it
and not look back

goodbye

you’re never alone

Untitled

I guess the separation
is legal and legit
whatever you or me
and *Taco say as three
no one really wanted
To mutter the word quit
He’s not a mutter
doesn’t really matter
we share the same
eys now in which
to see
that I’ll miss you
that I miss and
that I’ll miss you

I’m not suggesting
that loving
doesn’t count
we know that
from our rooftop
that I’d shout
that fact anyday
and everyday in
every way pitch or tone
with every energy
like a spazzed out
puppy attacks a bone
but missing someone
adds on the aching
and the burning
with all the sweet
memories topped
by all the
yearning that
just might do me in
if not the fire
will in my stomach
churning when
I miss you and you
remind me that we win

You know I love you
Do you know
I miss you?
Let me tell you
I miss you
I miss you more
Yes I do

-Kevin M. Quirke

The Never Sever

Never
Whatever
You said
That you
Never
Wanted
To hear
From me
Ever
Again
And since
Then
The everything
That has
Become
Our
Great big
Equal
To nothing
Sum
Has insisted
That the
Relentless
Seemingly
Endless
Left me
Spent
Bull shit
Persist
What the
Fuck is this?
A bad ending
To an
Otherwise
Incredible story
I know
We’re both
Sorry

Do I miss you?
Sure,
I miss you
But I’ve been
Missing you
For much longer
Than this
Time we’ve
Spent Apart
A very
Eventual
Breaking
Of this heart
And every time
It starts
To end
It starts
Back up
Again
I think I can
Remember
When
I felt
Closer to you
Than anyone
Else
Close enough
To
Make me
Think I
Know my
Someone else
Myself
But now
When I hear
All those
Frozen moments
Crystallized in
Time
That are
Forever
Yours & mine
They just don’t
All echo the
Same way
When I hear
You re-tell
Them all
Today

It’s okay
It’s no one’s
Fault
For feeling
Or for making
Into monsters
Those we’ve
Loved the most
But it is a sad thing
Like throwing out
A lost forever ring
When so much
Love is right there
In your heart
And spilling
Out into
Your hands
That you hold
Out to
Someone
That could have
All that love
And something
Like that
You just don’t
Turn down
And you stand there
Trying to hold it all
Long enough
To hand it all off
To the only one
In a whole world
Who you meant
For it to belong
But before you
Showed up
Too much
Had gone wrong
And you stand
And you try
And you won’t
Ever really figure
Out exactly why
Whatever went
Wrong
Was strong enough
To keep
The only one
In a whole world
Just out of
Your reach

You just wait
Because it’s
The only thing
You know how
To do
Because there
Is nothing else
To try
The sleepy
Spell that
Spreads across
Your view
Threatens
To never
Leave you
All of nothing
That you know
Could be true
So what
With all that love
Do you
Then do?
You just wait
And hold onto
As much of
All that love
As you can save
For someone
Who will never
Be saved
You wait
And you wait
With no promise
That anyone
Will ever
Really wake
The spell
May never
Dissipate
The sleep
That keeps
Them paralyzed
Might never lift
You might
Stand there
Forever
Staring right at
Them
And never get
To give your gift
You just get
To wait
For something
That will never
Happen
You get to give
And give
And give

Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping
I’ve been
Sleeping
And
“Beauty”
He says

I will never
Forget
The things
I can’t
Forgive
Myself for
Forgiving
You

Yes,
It’s sad
But not
At all
Untrue

Looking for any
Of the words
Inside my
Sleeping-for-so-long
Mind
Reaching out
For any
Of them
I can find
Seems like I
Said them so
Many times
To pass the time
Spent under
Our spell
Here
All frozen
Left to wonder
If
The spell
Would ever
Lift

It needs more than this…

Like looking
Into
And then
Through
A mirror
Do you hear her?

There
Unfair

“Let me go”
Imminent
Need to leave
For so many
Reasons
You chose then
Not to see

Watching
Loving
And
Knowing
From a distance
I miss this
What is “this?”
Only the part
That being apart
Will keep us
From ever
Finding out

It is not what this
Is at all about

How about
We corner
Demon Doubt
And just fucking
Take him out
Like that
For taking
Too many
Of our
Dreams
In our
Hundred years
Of unsure sleep

Here’s the part
You can always keep

Wasn’t sure
If today would
Ever come
I could be looking
At you
Forever
Forced to
Always
Remember
Here in the
Stillness
That we are
Stuck in
That we might
Never get out of

I didn’t think we would…

Trying is lying
Dead things
Are done dying
And behind them
They leave
Lucid little
Scenes-within-scenes
Just like these
A sea of rocking
Memories

What is left?
Rapidly
Ever after
The autumnal
Theft?
Once upon
A time ago
It was time
For me
To go
Right about
In time
With the
Couple days
Covered in snow
Not sure how
You couldn’t know
Maybe you did
Who knows
What we hid

Trees
Lose all
Their leaves
In blizzards
Like these
Then wait
For the
Nothing
That they
Always
Expect

Warmth & its
Whims
Will return
When it wins
And the ice
Melts away
Day by
Warmer
Day
Until all
Of a sudden
Here we
Are again

Love has it all
Right there
In its hand
The infinite
Fragments
Of the world’s
Broken hearts
It holds them
So strangely
With so much
Care
As if to make
Any one of them
Any smaller
Would be
Attrocity

That’s all I see
Little separated
Parts of what
Were once
Whole hearts
A set of eyes
Belongs to each

Always so surprised
To see the same
Scenery
When you stop
To look
All the way around
Yourself

How’d I fall right
Back in this?
I don’t know
I only remember
Last November
And how then
I didn’t want
To be with
Or to spend
The kind of time
Like the time
We’ve had
Since then
But it’s been
What it’s been

I don’t want it
Ever again

Fire

Feeble-flamed
Thought to have
Blown out
With the passing
Wind
Winding this way
Almost
Looks like
New fire
Coming from
Nowhere
Sparked by
No one
A light’s
Little burn
Looms like a
Shadow
Of the lost blaze
Before it
Comes coming
Right back
Fierce-colored
Set against the black
Of only a
Moment ago

Perfect entrance
Who’s heart
Wouldn’t be won
With a set of flaws
Like those?
The crowd is asked
And no one knows
But it’s seeen in the
Flailing flames
Some secret
Some shooting star
Shot across
Its eye
You’re its secret
It keeps you well
Safe from being
Known

This was for you
This fire’s fire
Splits in two
Twisting twirls
Spitting sparks
The little
Liquid lava
That flows
Between
These hearts
Our eruption
Like some
Silent something
Heard how
To see hears
The eyes ears
The sound is seen
The sound is known

Waking up with
My dreams
That don’t like me
Anymore than
I like them
And without you
Can’t shake
Unawake
What you take
That I’m left with
Without you