“I'm glad I met the devil because he showed me I was weak, and now a little piece of him is in a little piece of me.” - The Lighthouse, Halsey.

i’m too bright
i burnt candles
to wet ash that you rub between your

fingers
running through hair
sunset bleeding in the background,
the waves lapping on each other;
we’re leaning on each other,
laughing. your skin glimmers like seafoam
and your voice is fresh citrus.
you use it to
tell me that i’m too much,
yet somehow
too less.

i have a massive heart
but it’s hollow. it’s beating
but it’s not strong enough
to carry the weight you’ve put on my
shoulders,
heavy already.

i wear my heart on my sleeve,
wailing,
and i don't try to
hide it because it’s so loud
that you can hear it,
(you like the power)
and all i can ever be is an
inhibited
carnal
light ray,
flashing blinking
leading your ship away from
siren songs and siren
cries.

see it, lead it, love it,
need it, break it, leave it because
it’s a waste of my
time
is a blessing,
and i can’t spare that much attention
and let you give me hypertension.

blood and tentacles and pus
spreading into the waters,
lock up your sons and your daughters.
piercing green eyes
like sea glass, like jade,
like the fleeting glimmer of
fins and tails.

I’m tired of being this lighthouse,
half-closed eyes gazing at you
and providing dim light
which you never used anyway.

I’m tired of just being fog
on a window that
you watch, trace, and
erase
my legs and leave me
amongst the current.

I’m tired of being a hurricane
or violent rain,
I’ll be the whole ocean instead
and I’ll bring the waves crashing down
and you’ll beg God to not let you drown,

but the thing is,

I never wanted saving,
I just wanted to be found.

© lilac_of_hope