A Match To Propane.

A poem.


the words tumble in my head

and, swelling in my chest like a balloon

they claw their way up my throat

until i open my mouth

where they die

when they reach the open air.


i’m screaming at myself

my fingernails digging into my palm

my jaw eternally clenched,


afraid of the words

that you will likely never hear.


you’re within an arm’s reach

so much of the time

so close to me

only a step away,

a breath away,

from total destruction.


what a sight it would be

for my words to light the room up

like a match to propane.

the moment it strikes

it’s too late

we’re already in flames.


how desperately i long for you.

to burn with you

dancing in a fiery mess.

twin flames in love

without a care

for what burns in our path.


i play such a dangerous game,

keeping my cards close

patiently waiting

for a moment in time

when the words will explode

into the universe.