Follow down to having so much
inside, but showing and giving
nothing to anyone approaching
me at all. I fall and crash,
but burn so silently and from
afar, hiding the vicious waves
and the gentle pull of lips
up on a usually reserved skin.

Someone might ask if a lonely
soul can sustain so much fire,
so much wilderness for one, no
one to share it with, but each
and every day fails to show us
if it'd be better to form and be
a part of someone's mind, electric
current of chemicals shouting to
do, say, try, make: all for naught.

I prefer the gentle lull of my
own thoughts, these colors have
no way of changing and being all
something part of a mistake, of
a past I'd like to forgive and
forget. I'd much rather swirl
around a tangible reverie than
an almost adventure of such
fragile failures and regrets.

Find me soaring, my blood pumping
to this imperfect rhythm, not even
a little bit afraid of just being.
Dancing strangers as lovers of the day
and night, the chains around them clash
but I know nothing of escaping, not one
set of eyes meets me, until I meet one,
the burning chemicals flow easily, but in
a moment they're gone, as everything does.