And I saw candles in the skylight
That forced me to look outward
Their flickered flames in twilight
Made is so there was not an echoed word

I looked upward, onward
At a world ending above me
As if a deaf man’s silence as he hears
The first strings of a symphony

Under that purple and crimson sky
The masses joined my gaze
Looking to horizons, not one eye dry
As endless candles floated in the haze

The sun it set, or did it burst?
A gasp, a rush, then no more
As candles fell from darkened sky
And set fire to the floor

But I will remember the penultimate
The flickered flames in technicolor sky
The beauty near the ending for which I was present
As all and all and all said goodbye

In the middle of it all, linoleum and cleaners
I find the shelves of candles and pry off their lids
Just to find out what scents they hid.
No noise, no racket, and nothing meaner.

The balsam fir in craters of wax
A chirstmas tree hunt and sugarsnackes
Recollect times to play and relax
Late December days and skies overcast
The carrides back smelled of this.

Of the wild rose, all pink and flush
Our faces betrayed us after stealing a kiss
And stealing away hidden with a wild blush
When asked just where we were.

I’d say the black bamboo
Where the growing pains began
I remembered what I never wanted to know
Smelling her sweat on my hands.

After every cupcake and fall harvest
We felt torn in two
Amidst the parents and summer’s zest
Everything I wanted couldn’t possibly be true,

The strawberries, the honeybees
Clean linen on a quick, tense rainstorm
I fell to my knees,
Afraid that my passions would
Take on another form.

Far too wild and winterborn,
You have your sleights in sympathy
And obtain what may decorate your court
I amuse you with love: an elegy.

But, the heart is no traitor, not to any court
And says I’m no citizen of your lovely heart
I’m a smiling nomad that goes in due time
And, love, we can trade castles
Since you’re no citizen of mine.

Again, the scents linger with no flame to their wick
Closed were their lids to choke out the burn
Cool were the insides, like ash in an urn
A single spark dazzles but goes out too quick
Each smell left unfamiliar may not have you
It’s not you and me, but me and you and you and you.

It's a candle slowly having its wax melting and falling silently on a cold wooden floor
With each drop I come a step closer to the door.
And if it keeps on burning the same way it's burning now,
I'll go in and out the window until I hit the ground.
When the candle has its last little piece burnt
I'll be long gone and my body will be cold
And when there's nothing left out of the candle
I'll be long forgotten by all the people that promised  they'll remember.

A great hall
thousands of candles
each lit
their lights flickering erratically.

A great hall
thousands of candles
one by one
they go out.

A great hall
one candle is left
surrounded by darkness
drowning it.

somehow, right now,
it’s winter and i’m wrapped in your embrace.
somehow, it’s winter and we’re all wearing brown,
sitting on soft couches and listening,
pretending we’re oh so smart,
when really?
we’re oh,
so
young.

and all our hearts, they’re strewn across the floor,
all our work is forgotten,
as we kiss and touch and watch the snow fall,
and sit down to dinner,
where we slow dance -in the living room,
then wrap our arms around each other,
repeat the same songs on some ancient tape player.

those slow drumbeats, the soft jazz notes,
the growing thrum of this cursed city
-the one we danced to? sank into the sheets with?
this, this is where we got lost in us.
with the snowfall outside and, who would have noticed
that we smell like something other than fall candles.

i grin, and we grab our things off the floor,
and laugh it off. somehow, we know this place,
it’ll always be our home. after all,
sweaters cover our marks in a way sun-clothes can’t,
don’t they darling?

now, soft skin, pearlescent,
seems like some sort of luxury, a wish made during yule,
something i can only share with you,
because truly, i don’t think i’d want to share this cold place,
unless they were you.

and as we waltz to slow music, as we plan, as we laugh,
as we sit down in the candles,
i think i’m falling all over again,
because your eyes look hodded in the light,
your skin inviting, your mouth soft,
and your smile makes me wish you’d swallow me whole.

today is your birthday
I hope you know that if I could
if I could say it
I would say happy birthday
but I cant
I can't congratulate you on another year
but I hope there's cake
and candles too
like the ones I used to do
but that's over
however, your day is not
so take a shot
"cheers to 28"

I buy lighters nowdays
Everyone thinks I smoke
NO I DON'T SMOKE AND HOPEFULLY WILL NEVER
I do light up candles and watch them burn
I do set pages and pages on fire
I do try to burn my thoughts away but they always return
I don't smoke
I color with smoke
Whenever I blow out any candle
I let the grey surround me
Whenever I light it up again
I turn the lights off
So the warm light can color my cold walls.
I don't smoke
But there's cigarettes everywhere around me
Their smoke and hateful scent imprinted on my clothes
And that scent is not mine
NO I smell like candles
My mom put the cigar scent on me
I try to take it off
Shouldn't it be the opposite?
Well I don't smoke
But I am slowly dying.