my hair is the burning ember of the forest fire,

      wisps at the ends, and sweet promises uttered in silence.

i am the voice in your head, when you plunge your head into the water,

       the ocean soothes your body but my words cause panic.

perhaps i am not as angelic as she may have thought i am,

       perhaps i am the demon that lurks underneath the good days.

maybe one day, i will carve the dark out of me,

       and burn this decaying wood, for it should be time for a new leaf.

alas, here i am, rotting in this cocoon i call my personality,

      with my silver tongue, and hooded eyes, sleep deprivation is my grasp at sanity.

i wish i were a better person, i wish i were more things than i am now,

      i wish i were not so distracted so easily, i wish i wasn't a disappointment.

except, those are hopeless wishes, and i'm a hopeless fanatic,

       please let go of me, i am not worth it, i am but enigmatic.

- my silver tongue