A Candle Without Its Wick
Flower petals on my door step
Led me to your arms
Poems fell on me like leaves in a storm
Adoration, overwhelming, suffocating
Now dissipating
Change takes its form in silence
Too quiet to be seen
To loud to avoid
Pounding my brain, my heart
Destructive, destroying, desecrating
Contemplating the darkness
Searching for lightness that once dwelled
Now loneliness swells my skin
About to burst from the pressure
Ready to run head first back into yesterday
Now I am unfurled and scathed
Just a lonely lily pad searching for its toad
A book in search of its shelf
A candle without its wick
2 comments
Permalink1
Thanks for writing again…really enjoyed it.
Permalink2
Sometimes a candle just needs a vacation so that it can find its wick again.
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