Love is the oxygen that I need to breathe.
Promises are the match that lights the flame.
Jars are the base that makes me believe.
But not trimming the wick? I’m to blame.
You lit me.
I was burned.
I made my plea.
A lesson learned.
You called me your warmth.
Only to slowly burn out.
I’m unsure of my worth.
All I have is self-doubt.
Smoke flutters through after the heat is gone.
No more light to shine in the dark night.
I’ve now become withdrawn.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever have another light.
As the flame burnt, I became smaller.
I should have been shining from within.
An experience that made me a scholar.
You were my greatest sin.
Being the fire never scared me.
The only thing that did was the flame dying out.
Now I struggle to breathe.
And drown in my doubt.
You enjoyed the temporary glow.
I called it combustion.
I’ll always be in your undertow.
Despite my deep destruction.
On my final ounces of wax.
No one can ever burn it all.
I’m on my final collapse.
But I’m trying to stall.
I am the extinguished candle.
Trying to survive.
I sit here still fragile.
But I’ll never thrive.