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I hear it, the clashing of water against its own waves. The sizzling of the fallen waves rushing up the sand reaching out to pull you in. The moon light beaming off the almost never ending distance. Peace.. Such a dangerous mysterious void. But yet you can still see the beauty in the imperfect sea glass crafted by the punishing currents, the shells from the passed owners that resided in them. I too can create sea glass with the poems I flutter from my lips. Another dangerous mysterious void of its own.

I feel it when speaking to you. Being near you. The fire in the pit of my tummy. The fire growing ever brighter with each passing day. My body craves you as a fire craves wood. Yearning each day for more. Wanting to grow brighter and become the prettiest color of amber your eyes have ever seen.

I am here. Taking each breath as of my lungs are being squeezed as they expand. I wake up realizing life is not a dream. Life is just another day of surviving.

Barley hanging on to each gasp of air. Barely hanging on to each words someone says. Barely hanging on to the love you’ve longed for but never thought you deserved. Barely hanging on to the fear of death and the fear of living. What is life if everything is barely out of your reach.

You say such pretty words.. Almost as if with each movement of your tongue you paint beautiful golden stripes on my internal wounds... It's almost as if my wounds speak to you, they tell your words exactly where and how to paint in order to cover them in the glistening color of the Gods.

I am becoming engulfed in the shining metal as if I am plated in 24k gold.

What's odd about being placed second after countless times.. You are always ready for it.

It could be simple things like walking out of a door even though you are in front, someone will surely push past you or something much deeper such as you loving someone who will never love you in return.

There are far too many ways you can be placed second, so you question every step you take. Anytime you go to speak you hesitate in fear of being talked over. High-fives in a group of friends, your hand is always the last, isn't it? The boy you like? He has a crush on your best friend, doesn't he? I know you know the pain that builds up in your throat every single time your second-place medal is placed on your shoulders.

The people who place you second never give it as much as a second thought, certainly not understanding how much it is tearing you apart. Yet you smile.. Giving a gentle nod.. You give them the okay to place you second in fear if you are not second. You will be nothing..

I never knew you could actually feel your heart tearing from emotional damage.

Your heart can break only so much until time takes its toll. Causing its last beat to be sooner than expected.

You called me your diamond in the

rough...

But this diamond was to cracked, to small, had to many impurities.

She holds no value.

She fell between the cracks of your shifting sifter. Left behind in the tear soaked dirt; never to be truly seen by the human eye again.

As time passed she buried further into the cold aching Earth. Forever to hide her true beauty from the world above.

- Your diamond

What do you do when two people are so intertwined by the souls that make them whole? The very souls that longed for nothing more than the purest of love but along those twisting and winding roads.. So much damaged decayed their futures. The two souls meant to simply be, to far into the decomposition process. Their fingers reaching for each other longing for the flame burning inside. Unknowingly grasping at the now exposed bones caused by past bacteria that sunk it's claws so deep into the delicate pure flesh of their lovers. Forever to be stuck in the putrefaction process.