combustible earth.

redundant.
a metaphorical egg.
like a rock inside my brain.
why can't you live in the dirt,
and play my living game?
a never-ending staircase,
such a paradox.
a brick wall, more subtle than aether.
wicker baskets for me to
place myself in.
forever will i ask for
a solitary sin.
small scale solar flares,
mood lighting my darkness.
the absence of oxygen,
and you kill me.
i beg you, dear,
kill me.


you ask too much of me.
what do you see?
i'm blind to this
unattainable beauty
you've given to me.
you are the most
colorful brand of
monochromatic
i have ever seen.
dear, you are classical.
dear, you are small.
all that wonder
you keep inside your walls.
a deforestation,
chopping every
tree i've called my own.
follow me back
to this place
i call home.
murder me here,
become my fear.

i'm not so sure
when exactly this became
about you.
it has, though,
im perfectly sure.
funny thing is,
i'm not looking
for a cure.

we are not the same.