Drop the Match! It's already burning...

I am absolutely terrified. And then there is this piece of me, there is this peace of me. So convincing and bold, I dare say it takes me for a ride. It makes me believe that this tarnished glint paves the road to silver. You know that lining we've all been grasping through broken fingers of a broken hope. Lined with an impatient dew, yearning to grasp...we gasp.

Give me air

Have you ever seen a tea pot tarnished? Swirls of a translucent copper stained by pools of gasoline-like puddles, shimmering side by side with pure silver, hazy but, if given the chance, lethally brilliant.

Blurring the line of classification, the tarnish swirls so nicely into the silver, I begin to wonder as the silver's reflection seers.

Silver: something of a retired tradition. of memory. Of propriety. Of Secrets reflected back into the eye, kept by the ear, and made messy by the heart.
2.That of the elite. A symbol of financial well-being. Live long, BUT prosper.
--------Silver is a tricky thing, something that sucks you into its own superficiality. The ultimate tease, it is cruel and unattainable. No matter how hard you search, your reflection will always search back...burn into those eyes. The only thing you'll ever find in silver, is the same empty space between those eyes, that same empty space you're looking to fill.

We search through silver for that look, for what is a void to be filled with anything but a void? It has long been evolved from the game it once was. No longer a mission, it now stands as an impossible certainty. Why then? Why do we berate ourselves with this charade?
------Voyeurs, hoping to see someone or something in that glimmering edge... Hoping that whatever we find validates this tea party we hold unto our self---validates this life upon which we have purchased, this life we own. The same that we leave on the shelf, to only be touched with inquisitive opticality.

Don't you see...silver gazes upon us, eyes empty with desire and a reflection awaiting an answer. So we look. We look deep into those eyes and feel; in control, corporeal, and, most importantly, desired. We stare into silver to feel and to know we are still feeling. And though it is a phantom feeling...We swear it's there.
Let go. Let grow. And breath--- I'll take the tarnish; I'll take the time; I'll take the truth...
and I'll be better for it.

~Take your tea pot off the shelf. You'll be happier unhaunted, dreaming in tarnished swirls of gasoline-like puddles, accompanied by squiggled perfections of flamable reflections. Let it burn!