I
sometimes the flames
as red as rage lick my heart
can you feel the heat? see?
there is a hell in me
II
you can’t define it
only feel as it passes you by
the divide of past and now
like a prisoner, you comply
this ache for freedom
no
it isn’t a crime
you are just not allowed
to dip in the ocean of time
III
i
am reduced to influences
of whispers overheard
the blue reflected off
of flutterbies
and their wings unfurl
events of cosmic note
like a prophet doomed
to paint it all
yet I dare
to call the art
mine
IV
You want
To peel off my skin
And see
What fills the space
Of my very being
I fear
The rejection
Inevitable
Impelled
To stitch the layers
Of my skin
That will now never fit
V
I felt the words abandon me one day
Nothingness
Seeped into the sea that hides inside
Silence soaked the paper, stifled cries
VI
A picture of shifting dunes, I am
A wanton thing, feeding the strays,
I squeeze out the remnants of life,
For them to prey on and play on my sands
I bury them too when the time comes
Making a game for the next stray
VII
It's not sane to feel this way
Of how easily I can be crushed
Like a cockroach
Still better than pretending otherwise
VIII
Can I borrow your heart
If only
To soak in your warmth
Feel it
Settle in my chest
Like homecoming
IX
It’s hard to abandon
The worlds I create
Aware of stagnation
A miserable fate
That anchors me
To this reality
Yet I waste my time
Imagining the lives
I could live instead
X
There’s eternity
in creation
— why wait?