Fireflies

I am a blue neck bottle squeezed tightly so nothing will come out.

I only hold myself accountable for the actions yet to take place.

But will most likely recant once I do do something reasonable.

Only a few people dare to stand up for me.

Because behind their backs I will chop their character down like brittle trees after a forest fire.

There is no ash on my face this time.

I have learned to avoid contact with the dead while thinking deeply on things.

Meet me in the desert with compass in hand, I will bring other supplies needed.

I can't remember how many times I have wanted to forgive myself.

Most likely each waking moment.

I fade in and out of original consciousness then tell myself it will all make sense the moment we touch.

My throat grows dry from consuming so much coffee, teeth chatter in the back of my skull.

Be sure to hold me high once I am no longer around.

I can't sleep without consuming you each night, when I begin to fade I feel peace.

I promise You rainbows and bites from scorpions.

Shelter from the heat and memories growing intense outside.

In this canvas tent a firing is going, its only right I burn the rest of my poetry scraps there.

There is a haunting and a stillness going about this town.

We only have film and imagination left.

Dru