Could be strong like the moon

But we burn like the sun.

Washed into the ocean in waves

Buried alive in the sand.

I want you to be a part of me, so much so that without you breathing would be like breathing under water, but instead I feel your hands wrapped around my neck; breathing fire down my back, widening the holes where many before you have stabbed me before…

How many times can I say that I want this chaos to be peaceful?

That I know how to win the war but I choose to let you succeed in complaining, sitting quietly?