Purpose has never been an easy concept
For someone like me,
the candle had just one.
I was to hold your fire,
I was told to contain it,
I was told that it doesn’t matter what happens to me in the end,
What matters is you keep warm,
And everything I was supposed to be.
You liked me a lot,
You said it was because I held ambition,
I didn’t burn easily,
I still had a lot of fight left.
I felt better about myself,
Until I felt myself fade away.
Until I melted and burned out,
Until all that was left was hot wax.
Till there was no more spark,
No more flame,
No more smoke.
No more waxy glances and midnight warmth,
No more cascading hot tears and broken wicks,
No more of what I used to call myself.
I hope you hurt as much as I did,
I hope one day you know what it feels like to be ignited
And not know how to stop burning.
Burning isn’t easy when hot wax drips on the floor