Life may smother my flame, but it cannot hide the smoke bellowing from me.
I reignite myself time and time again with a sliver of hope that I may once again be near you.

There are times where I don't burn as bright and I'm afraid you may forget about me.
How can one forget the trails I have treaded down for more wood for one's own fire?

I have burned bright, and I have burned dim
All the while the smoke never reaches you.
It never chokes you awake in the middle of the night; it cannot reach you whilst you are out in town, or content painting at home.

I may only dream of the day in which it can reach you.

There is not a flame encasing my body that does not remind me of your touch.