beeswax candles are spreading
their honey colored wax across my skin,
and clogging up the clock's mechanics
so time stops just long enough
to allow you to sprinkle my burns
with fairy dust and amnesia.

light leaks through your stained glass window
eyes and I can see for a little longer than moment
that you care. I smile.

someday I'd like you to be my time-line,
where my life starts and ends, but that seems
to put a lot of pressure
on your back, so I'll draw it in pencil,
light enough to be erasable.

your eyes say a lot when you actually
look my way. and even more when I meet them,
but I can't seem to be able to for long,
seeing as it scares me
that I'll show how I really feel,
and you'll turn away to leave, without a single whisper
from your lips.

I'm a crazy girl with a beaten down heart,
who's struggling to master it before anyone else
finds a way to destroy another piece.

I have too much pride to ask for help
and even trust.

I hope I can tell you,
-- someday.