Poetry: Violet Embers

Fireside, snow outside,
The burning wood comforts my aching heart.
The wind strikes a chime
and smoke flies into my eyes,

But i don't care that it stings,
for i am already crying.

Curled up in that chair,
I am hiding from everyone and
everything that disappoint me.
I sit there alone in my thoughts
just like i did as a child,
when everyone ignored my existence.
No matter how hard i tried to please them,
it did nothing to make them see
who... I ...really was.

Age is just a number;
time is just a perception.
Age is maturity and reality is

the imagination of the mind.
It doesn't matter what i say or do,
I will always be
the broken
child
in their eyes.

I am already dying.
Lovely flames blazing blue,
encase this heart,
protect it true...
So i may once trust and love again
one that is worthy too.