Fear of Burning

[Hannibal]

I remember the burn,
As I turned my face,
Out into the bright freshness,
Of my stale room.
Alone, locked in solitude, my echoes.
Laying flat into a moist pillow.
Touching my face, wetting my fingers.
Wanting you, wanting to push you.
Away, far away.
So you step out with everyone else.
Fingers wet, mind bleeding, searching,
for somethign to grasp, hold to, hide.
finding nothing but solitude, emptiness, hollow mind.
My eyes light up again, overcome.
With feelings i've never shown.
Supressed for years, showing now.
Painfull burning upon my cheeks,
Caused by the years of pain I hold inside.
Behind these tired eyes,
Years were hidden, tears went uncried.
The heartache of birth,
self-renewal in death,
eyes open, shallow breathing, slow rate.
almost alone.
When you let me go, all feeling went with.
Alone now, empty, personless.
Lifeless form in my bed.
Carrying myself lightly I move to the center,
My room closing about me.
The staleness touching from all sides now,
my body unaware.
Lack of touch, feel, person.
Your done, but it's me, not you,
Standing outside myself.
The broken man, with a childs emotion.
Laying again alone.
Slowly they fall once more,
The material beneath my head,
Absorbing, engulfing, enveloping them.
Much the same way, I long to be held.
They fall without even a blink,
A blank stare into something somewhere else,
A snap of reality, my head moist,
Not for long,
The burning subsides,
And my eyes shut in anticipation.

[parch]

you write poems like stories leading the reader through your imagination and out onto the page. it blends so well and everyone i read has this immense amount of feeling. sometimes shivers, sometimes shock, sometimes confusion. i think a lot when i read your poems and they always seem to be so deeply personal. you really get in touch with what you're feeling.
___---parch