Burned out

The spark has burned out. The wax melted. 

As I try to build it back up, with all the melted wax, you're looking for another to light. By the end, I don't have a candle, I have hands covered with wax. I am now in the dark. We have divided. I still tried every day for a week. No use. Can't get a spark. The candle fell and crashed. 

                                                                                                               Wax fell all over the floor.  It was a mess. I was a mess. The wax dripped off the side of the shelf like tears on rosy red cheeks. I felt like I needed a new candle. When I finally found one, the candle burned out quite  fast. No candle lasted as long as my beloved first. Their scent was not as strong. Their light was almost as dim as night. these I let die. I try not to rebuild them.

                                                                                                              The house is still dark. Smells of beige. I am lost in the house I have known all my life. No light to lead the way. No candle to light my empty soul, no candle to bring warmth back into this house. I still lay in bed each night, wishing for the light I used to admire. I now live in pitch blackness. Lonely, too scared to look for another candle. 

                                                                                                                   In case it burns me.       The candle I used to set next to my bed on a shelf, that spot is now empty. Without my candle I       am being swallowed by the dark. I can't move without feeling lost. I still wish every night, when I wake up the candle will be there. Basking in the little light that it shines. I know that seems impossible, But just think.  

                                                                                                                                            What if? 

 even though I know I need to let go. I can't seem to. I had that candle for years. On cold winter days I would sit next to it. Soak up its warmth. I still have pieces of wax in my soul that I refuse to wash out. I need to save a piece of it. Even though everyone keeps saying, I need to let go. It will take time. Even though I will miss its warm scent and light. 

 I think it is time to fully say goodbye.                         Even though I  know I will never fully forget.     

 

Anna_banana

VT

17 years old

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