If there is passion, let me feel its heat. I want my heart to beat fast, my breath raspy, my skin to burn.
I am lost in my world, invisible - unknown. Moon please lend me your light that someone will me see me.
Foggy nights bring some comfort. He can get lost in the mist and there is no one to stare or question.
I now know how your anger came from skeletons that rattled in your heart and you couldn't escape them.
I seek to be moved, my imagination reborn. Let me feast on poems that feed my hunger.
I didn't know the demons that walked across your memory. They came from the dust when you were at peace in your grave.
I am a butterfly poet birthed from pain flying with the freedom of my verses.
Let me live my final days whole. Let my memory remain that I might know love's face. Life don't unwrap me to be fed to scavengers. I want to escape into light - not exist in darkness.
But the walls of my resolve mortared with stubbornness have been breached by circumstances I cannot handle alone.
How do I learn to speak when silence is all I know?
