orange flames dance accross his lips
the scent of smoke all
around us
infecting my soul with
the ideas of summer.
he spoke to me gently
as if being fragile was my responsibility
but I liked it.
white marshmallow burnt
and the ashes fall on my face
still too hot
and dr.Sprite on ice
from the kitchen
orange flames danced
and i wrote a poem out for you
left it for you
on your bed side table.
lingering there like smoke
prone to disappear if read too often
It is my belief that you are a ghost
invisible to me
and all these words we say
are casualy thrown into our
conversations
as distraction.
who else would lay the fog
on the road
or tell me im a lark
and who else have the guts to
call me out on
faithlessness.
the twenty-third deadly sin
is somewhere on my body
in my soul or
hidden deep in our relationship.
somewhere deep in our soul.
You, he, same thing
he is so faint in my mind
i can hardly kiss him anymore
or call his name when
i am frightened
or tell him of my day.
now. i just stumble blindly through
messes of my friendships
and relationships with people
I want to love.
but it certainly is hard to love you.
certainly hard to love me.
i think thats the end of the story,
i'm having a hard time with love.
too much for you
too little for me
Love is death
and death is fire
those flames that danced on his lips.
11:38 pm - 14.06.03
Recent entries:
Babs! - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
Golden Heads - Wednesday, Dec. 23, 2009
doublee - Saturday, Dec. 12, 2009
alone, I shine. - Thursday, Aug. 27, 2009
save me. - Sunday, Aug. 16, 2009
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