You are a scented candle.
Your perfume is beautiful.
You are running out of wax
but you chose to be on fire,
To spread brightness,
In everyone's lives.
I know, you will give more
Until there is nothing.
But you should notice
That you'll die out slowly.
You should stop messing about
By burning yourself out.
Do what makes you happy.
Not what makes you proud.

Some lips tell the saddest stories
It's not about the words you see
It's about the silence more often
It's about the smile she lost
It's about the kiss you missed a lot
It's about your name you die to hear
Lips are not just some fleshy part
Lips are the second heart