when you think you love someone it's like a slow burn.

the flame travels down the wick
at a pace less than a snail.
It meanders,
stops to catch it’s breath and enjoy the view,

the full smiles and eyes lost with wonder.

sparks flying out as little spats make themselves known
and it travels closer to the bottom of the glass,
the wax is melting,

only a couple of inches left now.

and as the light gets closer and closer to going out
you scramble for anything to hold to
because you aren’t ready to lose this,

but its time.

and then the light is gone and you’re left in the dark.
the realization that love wasn’t what that was

but **** was it something good.