September 8th, 2021
I am a little flicker of a flame, among other warmth. Burning quickly at both ends-my own head is a mess, I'll make yours into my mirror; I'll look into your eyes just to see mine. It gets hard to empathize with the difference, as if I had ever known how truthfully. Have you no faith in me? No trust? Trust me to let you down. Have faith that I will no matter the cost. A little flame doesn't consume the father of all fires. A little flame doesn't compare to the sun. And when heat drives others mad, where is heat to flow? Heat is a solitary vibrancy so it clings to others. I am a little flicker of this flame, learning to take a leap. The wicker skeleton I was given becomes waterlogged; I plunge into a salty abyss just to silence myself. Because who wants to hear the crackle of such an ugly candle? The sun certainly doesn't want to hear it anymore. Little flames are nasty and fleeting, and they never know when to stop following the trail. I never know when enough is enough, so I want to burn in the worst way possible.
R.K.
YOU ARE READING
Holeheart
PoetryI am the forgiver. I am the destroyer. I'm not at fault, but I deserve to be. Poetry and Prose Volume V 2021 DISCONTINUED
