The Consuming Flames

I couldn't believe that it took fireworks.

Red fire, consuming my oxygen
and my thoughts.
And the tones of your voice
like booming thunder
filling my ears with a ringing
that I could hear even after
you left me.

You entered amidst a black sea of other people.

The room was dark, shrouded
in black lace and prayers.
But somehow you appeared to me
clearer and brighter
than any disco ball
or compact fluorescent could ever manage.

The soot soon smothered us all.

The flames licking bright new brick
and threatening to swallow us
piece by piece
taking with it our pressboard furniture,
just so that the interior matched our skin -
covered in shining, charcoal burns.

I couldn't believe that it took fireworks.

Red fire, of my creation
consuming every part of you.
And as if the spectacle wasn't enough
the first time,
an encore seemed fitting,
doused in gasoline.

moving on

You have never loved me
and I know you never will.
The you I loved is lost -
I forgive, am calm, and still.

I'm Sorry

I would like to say
sorry,
for treating you this way

Sometimes I feel
a. confused – cracked, crazy
that my room is full of
pictures, photos, philosophies, psychoanalyses,
memories, and memos
but your square slumps, lonely
against the left side wall
b. stressed – scared, stupid
because every time our eyes meet
and our greetings float over
countless heads and pizza slices

I fear your parting thoughts go something
like this:
what. a. bitch.
But I do not want to make excuses.

Every passing day
runs too quickly
into the next,
counting down only gets worse and worse
until we are no longer friends,
or even acquaintances

As I increasingly hear that
- it will surely snow tomorrow -
my apology runs the risk of never
descending upon your ears,
or anyone else's.

And I just have to tell someone that
I am
sorry

You Treated Me Well

I must say, you treated me well.
roses clipped, dressed and gently placed
just for me.

hearts: pink, pressed, glued and smiling
just for me.
kinda.

messages sent from feathered fingers
tracing skin and freckles and -
flying fingers over keys
never played the chords just right.

instead:
i waited.
i waited.
i was dissapointed.

Still, I must say, you treated me well.
you never cheated, never yelled, never lied,
but I must say,
you could have treated me better.

mania

The first thing I ruled out
was mania

My money makes more - multiplies

and the clothes in my
closet come out

costing not more
than a few dozen dollars
or so.

The Glorious Dream

For so long I was wandering
in the crushing, painful dark,
anger uncontrolled, and I-
cursed with the blackened mark.

Then you revealed, with tearful eyes
within my glorious dream,
the secret that was locked inside-
its piercing, golden gleam.

That you were sent- far from me;
you'd love me if you could,
and though it was the saddest day-
at last, I understood.

And even though, in life I know,
It's not reality
I do forgive and now must live-
the Truth has set me free.

The Golden Summer

The caramel of the sun rays
matched the caramel of your hair
while the dust of dreams and dandelions
danced on sparkling air,

Beneath blue skies, we sat in
fields of summer roasted wheat
with the whispers of used whispers
left to wander at our feet,

With crimson lips of cashmere
and gleaming azure eyes
amid your feathered words
were anything but lies,

With bark behind our backs
there was no need to rush
even as the skies turned gold
from orange evening blush,

Never could this moment fade
but never could it stay
I promise I will not forget
any moment of any day.

-Dedicated to B.S., who was only ever perfect.