Finding Fire For You

I love you too much for myself. It’s cracking my lips and spilling over the rims of my eyes – and yet I feel all those crimson stains in my skull -the deep, irrevocable red that always lurked in places of me I refused to look at- growing – burning, burning, burning in the mud. I’ll cup my hands around and bring it to you. Dirtied and dilapidated as it is with fear and vicious traditions, it will always be your personal fistful of fire. It’s searing me slowly into liquid, melting into the dream I want to be for you. I’m coming, reaching out with sparks flying. I love you too much for myself and I haven’t caught up yet. All I’m asking you to do is wait.