Thursday, July 30, 2015

I feel like I'm always waiting for you;
Staring at a clock,
a box,
a door,
Waiting for our story to begin again
the way it usually does;
Burning brightly & intensely,
Burning for strength, 
for warmth,
& reactions,
For a calming haze.
Waiting until it's too hot,
Waiting to watch the flames 
dance & bend
& with insatiable appetite,
consume all they touch.
Waiting to watch fire, 
exhausted by its own desires,
die in the ash
If given no room to breathe.
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