She took a hundred candles
and burned them all to stubs
to watch the life go burning out
of each and every one.

And once she took a person,
and meant to light their heart.
She missed and lit their lungs, instead.
Now they speak flaming darts.

One time she took to drowning
in oceans vast and deep.
But she is dreams, and dreams don't die,
so she just fell asleep.

When she would sit up lonely
and watch while all the rest
would lay, and dream, and breathe, and stay,
then, gorgeous she was left.

As she would search for beauty
from uglies, odds, or couths,
she oftentimes would find herself
and still not know the truth.

I watched her light a candle
and burn it to the ground,
then say that hers was not the hand
that scattered flames around.

I watched her light a candle,
then try to blow it out.
But she inhaled, and now instead
shes left with burning lungs of red.
Her words, still burning in my head,
I recognize when late, in bed
my candle won't go out.