you were a candle;
i was a matchstick

from the start we knew
we're not fit for each other;
doomed to hurt one another

still, we tried to make it work,
despite all the consequences

what were we to do?
we loved one another

i burned myself to give you fire,
to ignite a spark in you;
giving you the blazing passion
to go after what you sought out to be

the scorching heat that burns me,
was nothing compared to the raging
bliss i felt by giving you warmth;
and seeing you light up brighter
more than what you thought you could

soon, the embers melted
every inch of your original self

yet it was fine,
you were a candle after all
a candle who can be molded back
in new ways, shape, and form

but i was only a matchstick
that burns out quick

still, it was fine
because i know for a fact,
if i could do it for eternity
i'd always set myself ablaze
if it means giving you
the light, the warmth, and the fire
to help you serve your purpose

and little did we know,
you helped me serve mine

because some people are like candles,
capable of setting things on fire;
incapable of starting one of their own,
they need something to light up the spark

then, the're some people who are match sticks,
who can start a fire on their own
and give that spark that candles need;
but burn themselves during the process

yet, isn't a matchstick made
to start a fire?