people always told me to hold onto the spark but it only ever got me in trouble
neurosis crawling up my spine and stunting the growth just below my neck

I am stunted, those boys in baggy school blazers and leather shoes will grow into men and I've barely got an inch on them

a savant of sorts, sure, but I'm not a child anymore
my ways hold me back; my ways hold me down

the spark I was told to to hold on ever so tightly, it hurts peoples eyes and burns their fingertips

I will not grow
I will only die down and submit to
the natural elements

disintegrate along with the vapour of the candle when it burns out