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46n8 Apr 2022
Most people have had a moment where they are just living their life, and then suddenly their nose picks up on something and they are brought back in time. You walk into a restaurant and a smell takes you back to being a child on Christmas morning in your grandmas kitchen. Maybe you go to a new friends house and their hand soap brings you back to moments that you haven't thought of in years.
    This is such a strong phenomenon that most people can give you an example of, and it's very interesting. Scientists believe that this is such, because the parts of the brain related to memory, and emotional memories specifically, are directly connected to the parts that decipher our olfactory senses. These associative memories are often very vivid and visceral, because the connections are so strong and direct within the brain.
   I have burned every candle we bought together down to the end, partially because I want to forget you, and partially because I'd do anything to be taken back in time to the way things were for just a second.
  Its actually been weeks since I threw the last one out. If you're wondering, it didn't work. I wasn't brought back to better times. But as the last breath of life burned from the wick in the cinnamon apple candle you loved, I smiled.
   Its time for me to buy new candles, and I am so excited.
To many future memories.
Zack Ripley Dec 2021
Candles light the way to your destiny.
Will you lose yourself in the vision or the flame? The candles light the way to your destiny.
But you decide whether or not
you want to continue the game
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2021
Pieces of this and that

From remember when

It used to be a flowershop

She used to smell of roses

Panting church candles

Now and again

From the quiet corner of absolution

Eyes closed to the dusk of sensualité

In search of lost time

"yearning for a song of reply"

Closing line borrowed from Melanii's poem "lullaby (the nightingale)"
AE Sep 2021
Dust settles between this continental divide
I, on one end, a fleeting candle wick
Burning slowly, hopelessly against this cold
And time, like fallen clouds,
Does everything to hide the sun.

I practice dancing to sounds of silence
Distances become all too familiar
and like melted wax, I fall to the floor

hoping that before you walk away
you will break this barricade of silence
that time has built around us
Kewayne Wadley Jun 2021
She sprawled out across the sky, bored,
Perfectly sun-kissed.
From a distance she could fit
In my hands.
Day, the name we hold dearest
Day, the name of the memory I placed
her above all else.
I too, lay sprawled out, beneath her.
The intensity of how she makes me
A region I know well, sweltered &
Without walls or halls to contain the
effect she has on me.
She took my hand & gave me the gift of
her presence.
My heart but a burning bush from this
intense percussion, this rapid sensation spreading steadily, rapidly.
A giant in my eyes.
I've climbed the highest building &
collapsed beneath her.
Black & wilted,
I am the wick without promise of
Sally A Bayan Apr 2021

Lighted candles were placed
on top of empty church pews.
in the absence of churchgoers,
tiny flames flickered on,
to mourn for the dead,
to bring hope back to life,
and to lift to God all pleas,
floating in the atmosphere.

⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

some flames burned still, some were
fervent...a mix of exasperation and
anger were silenced, as God's mercy
and intervention were sought,
⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️
to shut down infection,
to accelerate vaccination
to stop the race between
the two.....but, we cannot,
it's a sad reality, we don't
have what it takes...we don't
have that kind of power.
⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️
there're those who sincerely care,
and some....really don't care.

⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Today, Sunday, in most churches,
the pews will be empty....again.
⚡️⚡️⚡️ ⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
    April 11, 2021
How am i supposed to say
what i want is not attention
it's reassurance

what i want is not sympathy
it's support

how am i supposed to say
i am battling..
with myself.
How am i supposed to find the right words and not sound wrong
At the end of endless search,
found the precious gem.
only to give it away,
as it doesn't fit my ring
Finding the perfect wrong ones
Unpolished Ink Jan 2021
My polite smile is a candle

it burns

occasionally flickering

throwing shadows

eating itself

losing form


when the lights go out

there is nothing there!
J Dec 2020
Walls, colored like vanilla,
melt against the ribbons of gray
that the cinnamon red flames breathe.
slowly, each exhale works as the tempo.
slow slow quick-quick slow
get on step, J, you're off again.
b r e a t h e
I taste freedom as I spin,
the air burns like alcohol,
it tells me
"pick your poison, J,
choose wisely,
and we'll show you who you are."
but I'm so tired of being
so I'll sway until the traits
slither down my body,
curling around my ankle
before sneaking into never again.
I'll mix my being with the acid
gripping onto the shadows as I tilt back,
demons will nip at my neck when my
hair brushes the floor,
with my body bent,
hands clutching Hades' shoulders,
I let out a cry.
He tells me I'll get better.
we'll spin
like lies, rumors, thoughts,
we'll ****** our feet, and stomp out the pain,
the flickering will shade,
and there will be nothing but the sound
of my dancing
protesting, landing, ordering
against, on, to
the ground,
demanding to be seen, heard, known.
I'll leap across,
pressing my body close enough to Death
that I can tell you
She's just as lovely as Lust,
and She'll twirl me
until the radiation I've encountered
slathers the wall.
I'll heave until I collapse,
becoming nothing but
a heap of avoidance.
part one of
my tango.
keep typing.
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