Candles only crumple into themselves and melt, then harden went they're burnt out;

I can see myself the same because you lit matches to me that ignited more than the wick,

More and more, burning into the night just trying to guide the way and keep you warm.

Morning comes, the sun rises too, and with light you don't need a candle to show the way.

Day in and day out, you put me aside. But when the night came about and darkness fell upon your mind, casting shadows upon your heart, you were quick to light a match to me just one more time.

Burnt, hardened and gone; the cold winds from your breathy, diluted and icy moments of speak blew me out one last time.

I understand you don't need me, but please don't reach for me in the dark or light a match to a wick you once knew because you're cold and lost and can't find your way to someone else.

You once took all the light inside of me away; doubtfully so, but if you haven't lost the ways I'd light up your life, I suggest that you get to it because though you haven't, the ways you darkened mine have yet to be forgot.