i started a fire. i thought it would be good. i never meant to burn anyone. i did not know i could. i knew that i was guilty. i saw the evidence. i started another fire out of expedience. it did not absolve me. it only made things worse. i made another fire but the damage was not reversed. i set fire to that fire and all the fire that i lit. and when they became an inferno, i walked into it
i miss the paper. i miss the pen. i miss the things that inspired me then. i miss the meter. i miss the rhyme. i miss the things that pass with time. i miss the form. i miss the style. i miss the things i dared not defile. i miss the performance. i miss the review. i miss the audience. and i miss you.
I hammered out the shadows. And painted all the dreams white. I am ready for anything now. I am ready to deconstruct the night. And when i am certain that i have no breath left to keep. Then and only then will i lay down to sleep