this isn't one of those poems...

this isn't going to be one of 
those inspirational poems 

that tells you that everything
 is always to be okay

because sometimes it won't
and sometimes you won't be ok either

what in the hell does 
being ok mean anyway?

does being ok mean that we can muster the strength to fake smile our way through the day until we get home where the shadows are ready to convert us to their dark theology? 

does being ok mean that we can go an hour without feeling like our skin is trying to crawl right off of our body?

does being ok mean that we avoid looking at ourselves in a mirror because our reflection looks like a stranger?

is any of that ok?

this isn't going to be one of 
those inspirational poems 

that is going to act like peace 
is just one sunrise away

because there will be a time when 
mercy is late because it missed the bus

there will be a night night 
that feels so terribly endless

and someday your life will feel 
like hope exists for everybody else but you



this isn't going to be one of 
those inspirational poems
 
that tells you that there will always be 
somebody there to pick you up when you fall down

because there 
won't always be

there will be a day when you 
will feel abandoned by everybody

there will be a day when the reason you are on the ground is because somebody put you there

there will be a day when somebody you love tells you that they wish you were never born and for a brief moment you will start to wish for the same thing

this poem isn't about how to make your life
look like the perfectly crafted 
Instagram feed of your 
old friend from high school
who apparently never has a bad day

you know who I am talking about

this isn't a poem about being "Amaze-balls"
or about "Living Your Best Life"
or about making lemonade out of lemons
or about chasing rainbows
or about always being in love with yourself
or about how your suffering has a purpose
or about letting go of the past
or listening to your inner child 

those would make really
great poems

but that isn't what 
this poem about

THIS is a poem
about the exact moment when you are
shattered on the bathroom floor 
holding on to your life by a couple
of the remaining threads you have
to your happiest of childhood memories
while feeling like there is an invisible
monster chewing straight through
the center your heart

THIS is a poem
for that moment
when grief is pressing
it's hands up against your
mouth and you can't hear
anything else but the
sound of your own
muffled screaming

THIS is a poem
for that exact moment
when despair crams it's tongue
into your ear and whispers
the most unholy lies about you

THIS is a poem
for that exact moment
when you don't think you
can hold on for one more
second because you
have become your
own atheist

my love,

THIS is a poem
that was written to
remind you that
are more powerful
than any supernova
that has ever lit up
a dark vacuum

you were born
out of the same
energy that formed the sun

your heart is still covered
in first day stardust 

you've just forgotten
about the power that sits
dormant inside of you

you are the
Yellowstone Caldera
that has grown pregnant
with the rock molten lava of purpose
and a blinding light of fury that can be seen
by the angels vacationing on Alpha Centauri

you just about ready
to explode
and to terraform this world

it's all about to happen

the thing is,
you've just forgotten about the 
fire inside of you

if you close your eyes
and hold your breath 
for the briefest of moments
you will feel the glow
from the embers
laying deep
inside of you

go ahead and do it
I'll wait

close your eyes
hold your breath

hold on
hold on
now exhale

there it is

can you see it the thin blue flame?
can you feel the growing heat?

the fire in you is still there

it's ready 
for you to explode

warm your hands
by your dreams 
for a bit before
you go and remake
this world with your 
steel-melting gaze

~the fire in you might be faint right now
~the fire in you might be barely flickering 

but it's there

it's just buried under the layers and layers
of your scar tissue

it's a fire that isn't going anywhere

okay, my love,
I’m going to be honest,
the fire isn't simply inside of you

I just said that to get your attention

the thing is,
you aren't separate from this fire

you aren’t two different 
compounds being mixed together
by a mortar and pestle 

you are the fire

~you know 
it’s true 

you are the fire
you are the fire
you are the fire

yes, even when your life
is not ok

you are still the fire

even when you
aren’t ok

you are still the fire

and you will survive
and you will burn like a candle of revelation

yes, even when the
dawn takes the day off

you are the fire

you can become
your own sunrise

THIS is a poem
about learning
that you are not
your pain

that isn't who you are

~also while we are at: 

you are not your heartbreaks
you are not your failures
you are not your tears
you are not your scars

those things aren't who you are

what you are is much 
more ancient and eternal

you are the fire
even when you are broken

you are rolling magma 
even when you feel cold as winter 

you are the supernova 
even when you are spilled out on the floor
like an open bottle of pills
that you are tempted to swallow all at once

you are the fire

that's what THIS poem is about

it's about you
my furious crimson flame 

and I can't wait to see how
you set this world a blaze