Flame can burn
or flame can warm
and ice can cure
or ice can harm.
Take good care
and heed advice
before you burn
as cold as ice.
Tag: #tbt
#tbt
Every ounce of pain
is one more step I take
since stopping is not an option
with so much still at stake.
And I travel closer to the flame
just trying not to break
but thinking to myself,
maybe this is a mistake.
© Autumn Siders 2015
#tbt
Bolted, chained, and marred,
my heart remains beaten, scarred
from a love so quick and hard
that broke down my every guard.
Visceral, raw, and exposed,
my soul burns, a branded rose
blooming from these ancient woes
that only my brain knows.
Stolen, betrayed and flawed,
my love decayed, a false nod
leaving ash in place of laud
for empty thrills wrapped in fraud.
© Autumn Siders 2010
#tbt
Leaves know what to do:
get out while you can,
before the frost burns you
and leaves you for dead.
Time knows no end,
but end you it will,
so keep this in mind
as you stay standing still.
© Autumn Siders 2015
#tbt
The spark of life your eye
has all but faded to black,
jaded by this world
stabbing you in the back.
The falsehoods pour in
from the lying snakes,
dying to get their fill of greed
no matter what the stakes.
Your open heart is torn
and tattered by it all
battered by the siege
of the unexpected squall.
© Autumn Siders 2016
#tbt
Dripping wet,
from the ocean below,
your eyes met mine;
a quick glance we stole.
Later as the sun
was setting in the sky
I found you again,
the object of my eye.
Then the moon rose
as the stars began to shine
and I’d thought I lost you
until your hand slipped into mine.
© AUtumn Siders 2015
#tbt
Summertime and the livin’
is grueling.
The temperature’s jumpin’
and the tourists are high.
Your daddy’s dead and your ma is smokin’
so don’t hush, little baby, it’s okay to cry.
© Autumn Siders 2014
#tbt
I drew a map and marked the spot
and there I sat waiting
with the hope that maybe someday
you might see the treasure
you thought you lost.
© Autumn Siders 2016
#tbt
Those were the days,
when you called me yours
and love was like war;
we’d both served two tours.
The thing about war
is that no one ever wins
as casualties pile up
for some other sap’s sins.
Those were the days,
when I never called you mine
since I played the fool
and missed every sign.
The thing about love
is that no one ever wins
and just when you give up,
another love begins.
© Autumn Siders 2015
#tbt
If only I could write the words
that would change your life
as you sit with a blank page
and a sharpened knife.
Perhaps some odd construct
could put a meaning to it all
and brace your soul
for its eternal fall.
Autumn Siders 