When Demons Dance . . .

I will not have you soft and still,
As if your soul were free of ache,
As if your nights had never known
The quiet howl a heart can make.

Bring me storms behind your eyes,
Not just the sunlit afternoon —
I want the parts you hide from light,
The grief you buried far too soon.

Do not reach for me in calm,
If you won’t hold me in my fire,
My madness is a sacred flame,
A curse, a gift, a dark desire.

If you can’t bear the weight I bear,
Don’t chase my laugh, don’t crave my skin.
I won’t be yours in halves or gloss,
I come with shadows folded in.

Let your monsters meet with mine,
Let their footsteps fill the floor —
If our demons cannot dance,
Then what is all this longing for?

I want your ruin and your rise,
Your sharpest edges, deepest sea.
And I will not let you have me,
Unless you take all of me.