Playing with fire yes, envelope it into you, hold it close, ignore the burn.
Burn of passion, burn like the furnace, bright blazing fireworks across the sky.
You and me, we hold the fire between us and breath, but where does it go, it is leaking like lava from the cracks of my skin, out through the tears that I cry and it hurts.
Whispering shivers, taken into your spine up and down, release of crazy chemical reactions that feed off of my sanity leaving me a shell of idiocy.
Me and you, like a coal in my heart, once burned so brightly, once parked in the dark.
Up from the ashes, up from despair, I walk, I fight and I search for sanity, sanity, sanity.
No force of false freedom can get me to release what I once had lost but now found.
I am a woman, a woman who knows,
and I write.
'and I write' Yes you write very well. I am liking this,you.The read is so so smooth.
ReplyDeleteIs it wrong though, to even now want the fire? Even after the burn?
ReplyDeleteLove the last line.
This is wonderful. I read it twice because once wasn't enough, and the second time I got a lot extra from it. Wow. :o
ReplyDeleteAnnie- really? false freedom? is that the only kind? wherein then lies hope in our dreams?
ReplyDeleteDamn, I want that fire. And that hand that draws me to that fire to bathe me in it. But it has left for cool springs. Beautiful writing.
~rick
Beautiful words. much can be read from this excellent write.
ReplyDeleteI love the attitude in this piece! Your nice lines make me feel it! Keep writing!!!
ReplyDelete