Pieces of me

Not a good combination when you’re made of gunpowder and I love playing with matches.

I know I promised that
I would keep our broken pieces
neatly separated. We’re an
explosive combination of
gunpowder in one pile,
matches in the other.
Yet, there is not a single
piece of me that is sorry
for setting us ablaze,
flame on, hurling skyward.

*Pieces of me
For #vibesofjuly18 hosted by @enchanting_infinities.

Flame on
For #talknerdytome hosted by @gideon5897.


Name the FIRST 5 THINGS you’d grab in a fire:

There is not an article of clothing, a vacation souvenir, a random memento, a book, a cd, a card, even a text, that, having once meant something to me, does not mean something to me now. I have pressed a flower from every bouquet that was ever given to me by someone I cared about. I have jars of seashells, each representing a day spent at the beach. I still have the same pair of Guess jeans I wore in college, when ripped jeans were man-made and not mass produced.

First of these things I’d grab in a fire? I’d probably burn to the ground while trying to decide, though in the end they are just things, and, despite any reluctance I might have to face the fact that things are just things and are ultimately disposable.

To the dreamer in you

You were made from dirt, nurtured in chaos, you are meant for more than submission. Your organs, your soul, the marrow in your bones know that you were meant for so much more.

Sometimes, you’ll have to fight for the dream that no one sees but you. Not everyone needs to understand what sets your heart on fire.

*For day 9, #theloveletterproject

As you let the pounding water in the shower drown your thoughts of me, I hope you know that I can still feel the soft burnt traces you have left on my skin. That moment when our lips were in a fiery dance as we exchanged hot, ragged breaths of swirling air – you have set my soul on fire.


I’m sorry I was raised to be fire. But the thing about a fire is you cannot put it out unless you kill it. You can knock the breath out of me, but I will be burning until my very. last. one. This is me. I will always be illuminating. And i shall fall in love with all of the rubble I have destroyed and all the forests that have ignited my being. But at night, I dream of fireproof vests and midnight picnics and what we did not become.

*As requested by @soshiniesingh for #bemymuse no. 14

We are all made up of stories.
The most beautiful and tragic
happenings are etched into my skeleton.

Tales of love and despondency are in the
creases of my body. Moments of weakness
and heartbreak are mirrored in my eyes.

Wars will always be lost inside me.
I may not be a victor everyday, but nothing
could ever douse the fire in my soul.