I think I'll take this chance
to open my rib cage,
as I watch the leaves dance,
and retrieve my little candle flame.
It once was a pulsing fire
sparking with hopes and desires,
but for what's become of it, I'm to blame.
I set my heart down and watch it flicker,
weakened by a simple breeze.
Who'd have known that developing
an affection for someone
would turn into such a dousing disease.
I once wanted my candle to be a guide
to someone just as lost in the dark as me,
and yet now the shadows are my dress
so delightfully flattering and numbing.