Candles


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1. Candles

It's funny how...

 

Wait no it's not funny at all!

 

It's sad how...

 

Wait no it's not that sad

 

It's...

Ummmm......

 

It is how it is

 

And how it is, is fine,

 

I am wrong

 

I am but a traveling flame in a world of dwindling candles.

 

I currently reside on an orange scented, beautiful wax candle.

 

She holds a flame like a child. No creeping zephyr could ever extinguish the flame while she holds it.

 

THE CANDLE WOULD ARGUE THAT ITS NOT ORANGE. BUT RATHER STRAWBERRY BLONDE.

 

But she doesn't like the taste of strawberries and you can't smell blonde.

 

I am afraid.

And

I am

Confused

 

I was taught that fire was a symbol of BRAVERY! AND COURAGE! OF FURY! AND ANGER! OF POWER AND LIFE!

 

So why is it that I'm scared to be a flame, why does my anger reside as in me as a reclusive tenant, why do I have no power worth having, and why do I smell of life.

 

I am a flame. And she is a candle.

 

The ending is...

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