A candle's wick.Burning.A candle's wax.Dripping.A candle's flame.Flickering .Into ash it burns.Out of sight it drips.Into the night it flickers.For moments.It all goes away.For moments.My soul gives way.For the heat.To consume me.Like it did.The candle.
My unwillingness to exist dimmed all the lights in my house. I'm laying in bed, thinking how the darkness made home more like home. The familiarity of it puts my soul at ease, and the quietness calms my thoughts. I am a part of the darkness, and the darkness is a part of me.