Wax

Staring at a candle at 2 a.m., it brings out the worst.
The room I rest in is black, this candle the only thing I see. The flame itself is yellow at the tip and melts to a deep orange towards the bottom. The thin pool of liquified wax simmering at the top is a dark purple, below it, a light lavender. It reminds me of how a clean blanket makes you feel.
Staring at this candle at 2 a.m., it’s bringing out the worst.
I’m really, really sorry. In this black room I’m sitting on this couch that is not mine. I’m asking myself, is there anything I should’ve done? Is there something I shouldn’t have? What could I have done better? I tried really, really hard and I don’t think anyone noticed. They never do.
Staring at a candle at 2 a.m., it brings out the worst.
Lukewarm dishwater.
Warm-smelling lotion.
Cold hands.
Uneven fingernails.
My best friend.
Nicotine
Acid
Coffee stains.
Trapsoul
White lamp light
Home is a person not a place
I’m alone.
Rough towels.
If you didn’t see it,
Don’t say it.
I can’t see here
In this dark room
Where I cannot breathe.
Staring at a candle at 2 a.m., it brings out the worst.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Wax

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s