You are a lamp.
You are the flame in the pit of my heart
that burns my wide eye blind
and suddenly stings the sockets,
while the other lies silent;
broken, blue, and bruised.

You are the fly that follows the lamp
that I follow behind,
till we both fry,
but I still trail behind,
waiting for a spark.

You are the cigar in my head,
that lights fire to my bed
sheets and overturns the entire room.
Ashy and bitter,
like the burnt wood.

you, a flame,
left behind.

i, the wood,
am left behind.

(why?)

© lilac_of_hope
Image from Pinterest.