I remember the first time it happened. The pounding of my heart, the anger, the rage. I remember how I gave in, and the horror that followed right after. The screams of agony and terror, and the smell of burning cloth and hair. I remember stumbling as I backed away, struggling to take in what was happening right in front of my eyes.

"What did you do?! What the fuck did you do?!" someone shouted at me. I didn't know.

I remember getting up and running away as fast as I could, the agonizing screams of my bully and panicked shouts of his friends echoing through the woods. I remember running until my feet hurt and my lungs burned, and then running more.

I remember the effects of adrenaline wearing off and the unbearable pain in my hands kicking in. I remember realizing, as I was bandaging the burns, that what happened back in the woods wasn't some freakish accident. It was me.

My anger. My rage. My fire. It lashed out of me, right at the person I hated.

It wasn't spontaneous. I wanted it to happen. I wanted to hurt him.

And it felt good.

Diligently, sitting in the maple tree

A raven as lonely as I

Cawing to no one but the empty

Diligently, sitting in the maple tree

I touch the glass, feeling despair and empathy

As my darkness is reflected in its eyes

Diligently, sitting in the maple tree

The raven nods before bidding me a goodbye.

My days are nightmares.

My nights are hell.

I fight my demons.

I hide in my shell.

I pull up my covers.

I try to sleep.

I think of past lovers

as loneliness creeps

and my body grows older

and slowly decays.

I push my boulder

through Sisyphus days.

My body crumbles

from lack of use.

I cry and mumble

these shadow blues.

I feel so unnecessary,

so discarded, so dead.

I lie in my mortuary

in a coffin of lead.

I’ll know no peace,

only chaos and strife.

I wait for the beast

to end this life.

Have you seen the dandelions blooming in the fall?

Probably not, because by fall the frost has killed them all.

Have you ever seen a songbird singing in the snow?

Probably not because southern warmth calls them and they go.

Have you ever trod a chilly July morn?

You've never found the sun exhausted from keeping your skin warm. What about the springtime? When everything is wet.

Can you find a dry spot in the clover as you set?

The seasons bring their own vicissitude and strife.

But the end to their means is to make way for new life.

You have a place in every season, dont hunt for what is gone. Preserve yourself “holding fast unto the throng.”

Summer waits at springtime end and fall follows the same. When wintertime sends her worst spring will come again

I saw you

At that moment

I piqued your interest

I saw your mustered strength

I saw your will break

Twice over

I though

Had already decided

So

I caught your eye

And smiled

And suddenly

You found your feet

And your voice

And I played along

With the facade

Where you chose me

And I responded

But

Truth be told

I had already chosen you

Don’t worry

I won’t tell your friends

In honied tea

Sipped warm and sweet

Steeped misty-eyed and dreamy

In gentle light

Kissed soft and deep

In bliss lie waiting

If human is to being

As eyeball is to seeing

Then how do we ever know

What we truly are?

In heartbeats and in dreaming,

In silence and in screaming,

We find ourselves at a distance

Existing both near and far.

Our essence isn't living,

But in loving, and in giving,

In questions that take us to new places,

In the darkness and the light.

To be human is to wonder,

What makes the sound of thunder,

To seek the truths within our core,

Always learning, always more.

I wish I could forget exposing myself to you

Lying to myself that this was real

Letting you seep into my blood

Letting you have control over me

Losing everything i was for you

Ostracizing myself from the world for you

Obsessing over you

Obeying your words as if they were law

Opening my heart to pain

Vulgar words that scar me

Vulnerable to what you command

Venom from your touch that burns me

Vicious lies you spread

Egotistical rants that surrounded me

Emotionally neglecting what i needed most

Envying the freedom that was taken from me

Ending up where I never wanted to be

When I was born, my ears busted,

I listened to music as loud as it can go,

My ears could not take the sound, so they just bust.

I do not have to worry about that anymore,

I am deaf, I cannot hear the combustion

But I can feel it in my heart and soul.

The heat of the spontaneous combustion,

Burning flames that spread and increase,

The sparks of the deafening explosions,

Creating a chaotic scene.

I feel the heat of the fire,

I can feel it in my veins,

The soundless combustion,

Making me numb with pain.

I try to block it out,

But it still lingers on,

The silent combustion,

That will never be gone.

I may not be able to hear it,

But I can feel its power,

The silent combustion,

That will forever tower.

They call me crazy

For the little glint in my eye

That alights when

I see others' vunerablity

And you, yourself may call me cruel

But I'd argue it's only instinctual