I live my life through the words I write
You ran away with my light
hours away
into a thick, dark forest
where I could not trace you.
Then, you gave it to him
so I could chase after him instead,
who held it for mere minutes
before passing it on again.
Now, my light is constant
burning bright through the night
amidst occasional flickers,
like lights do.
Where is your light now,
who does it burn for?
Drown the sorrows,
the struggles, the insecurities
in the liquid
that warms your mouth and throat
and leaves a fire
in its wake
to validate your acknowledgment.
How many times have you
tasted this burn,
felt it smoldering for hours and hours?
Tell me,
does it make things better
or worse?
Flickering flames of light
illuminate the air and objects around them,
dancing to a song only they can hear
with thin ribbons of smoke trailing up
from their outstretched arms
and dissipating into nothingness.
I wonder what song they’re dancing to
and how they can perform in both
syncronisity and individuality.
My eyes plead me not to attempt at
watching them all;
focus on one only –
I see a flame that dances by itself
but also
joins in with the others,
and another does the same.
I wonder if I can be like that, too.
Dawning Words 