Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Flaming Eagle; Burned Alive

Each time I soar high and at the crescendo, the very peak, I am unstoppable.
This unnatural force to be reckoned with.
Flying high, fine as wine
A midas touch with sticky fingers.

After every crest there is a descent and
Mine are never gentle.
From the pentacle of my grandeur,
I must drop.
Consumed by fire, fueled by velocity
Burning down to near nothingness.

No holds are barred and I take no prisoners.
All is fair in love and war, and baby,
You are both.
Love, war, fairness, unfairness
In my furious closure
I feel I am being burned alive
and I feel I must take you with me
Into this pile of ash and charred bone.

Soon, I will be reborn
Fresh and vulnerable and new
From whence I came.
From all the death and dusty remains
I come out clean.
At the beginning again, but still clean.
You're not coming with me.

It feels different every time.

Friday, July 23, 2010


I sat on the warm pavement in the dark and stared upwards. I was covered by a blanket of night sky and the atmosphere was heavy with the day's heat. It's not safe here, on the wrong side of the door, but I didn't care.

I thought about where I was on that crisp fall. Freshly aged a new year and with a song blossoming in my heart. I had that... That something I think I loved. I don't know if I did or not, but it was close.

I was a wandering girl and I met a boy. Something about him; I was so taken by him. His voice, his thoughts, his cheshire smile. We met as the leaves were turning and the world was whithering. But the thing between us, it was thriving. It grew and evolved, stretching its leaves out into the cold, late autumnal sun. Slowly it would bloom, tiny flower after tiny flower.

I don't know how I lost that game. Maybe I was too far away. Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. Maybe I wasn't smart or funny or quirky enough. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

But that something... That something I think I loved. I don't know if I did or not, but it was close.

I still feel it sometimes.