tazerbe's blog: "My Mind is Dangerous"

I am consumed with wanting, But for what it is uncertain. A need to feel alive. A fire demon lives within me, Scratching, screaming, Trying to claw its way out, My blood poisoned with its Passion. Restless, Confined in my cage, With just enough space to pace, It plans escape. Knowing it will come, That day it will run free. Only a name Will bring peace, cease its torturing pleas. Roaring in the dark void of my mind, Beckoning come find, to look inside, To search for meaning in my existence, Demanding definition of my destiny. It's a living torch, One I cannot extinguish, And I am being incinerated By its tempestuous flames. The only relief from its wrath, Is found in her arms. In her presence, it eases, the longing subsides. I get anxious at the thought of leaving her, Knowing, like an old familiar friend, I will return, To eat at me with ravenous hunger, Until I'm with her once again. With her, I want to do those things Imagined, yet unsaid, To turn this animal loose on her, No restraint. Dare she let me close enough, To scorch her with desire; Dare her to be my brave Princess And slay this dragon breathing fire?

Often i find myself writing this crap because. i return to my pages like lovers who don't lust, but ought, so again i dig and claw my fragile experiences out of my head and heart and crush them in my fist. They bust open, puff, like fungus, and then you have powder fine enough to make ink or perfume, all completely different than the expansion of a good poem, ie. prophetic vision, which doesn't happen in your fist or on the page but is a secret whisper that goes puff in your mind, that you feed on long after the vision, like lovers who feed on a fantasy they had when they weren't in love. But no, there's no time, I put off writing all day, like i have most of the days in my life, it will just keep me awake anyway.