My eyes burn from within,
I find myself burning from within.
I try to breathe, but flames dry out my tongue and cripple my lungs,
like dry leaves.
My blood scalds a veiny path,
flames take over in wrath
-licking my skin into deformation.
These ashes remind me
we’re alone on this brittle earth,
we all burn by ourselves.
No matter how much you give,
despair burns in solitude,
like a drifting leaf downstream.
And when the rapids surge
and the flames have fuel anew,
with just our power to hold onto
-we’re as strong as the moment is due:
porcelain freefalling, dry woods in the summer,
or hapless bugs in quicksilver.
Fighting an inevitable tide,
one must as the question:
Why can’t we embrace the flames?
Let them burn away all the weight we carry,
let them blister our skin until white pearls glow in perfect absence.
I need not my flesh if my flames take it away from me.
I need nothing that can be turned into ashes.
I need of love, and love alone.
alas, alone in love is no love at all,
for love needs to reach a heart, as a flame needs the air it burns.
And my heart is long gone,
Replaced by a mine of coal.
It will shine bright, too bright if you’re too close.
But it’s reach is not infinite.
Too far a distance is a nightmare.
Long distance dims lights
and exacerbates darkness.
I don’t fear solitude more than I fear the air we breathe…
We’re living in isolation surrounded by a dream.