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,
Excitement,
& 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.

In the similar manner
          that I have to remind myself to breathe while eating,
I acknowledge that my attention can crave
   even more than I can take.
I remind myself to slow down
           with the people I let into my more than occassional thoughts.
& I ask why not try to transfer this pace 
            to other aspects of my life;
a career, 
saving money, 
buidling a talent,
building myself.
               I'm aware. 
But my energy speaks for me
   & the vessel of my body obeys.
I go where my mind takes me,
           I'm influenced by my own ways.
The past may provide suggestive signs
& I could follow them if it seems comfortable.
           I may wander until I'm tired
& disenchanted by my own chaos.
But I could find a moment of my own clarity & beauty
& peace of mind may find me.