Candle

fire touches skin
and smoke from burning flesh
rises up above, tickling my nose,
forcing me to frown.
witching candle,
harboring thoughts and dreams,
breathing life to my desires,
look at me
and tell me why I burn...
do I burn for truth
or lust for lies?
do I simply stand before you
waiting for some answer
that is locked inside of me,
like some twisted sleeping beauty tale,
tucked behind the brush?
I sing you verses,
words pour forth, but stumble to the floor.
all my prayers and devotion
come to you without the truth.
I am reaching, grasping, yearning
to hold on to some wisp of hope,
but like skies of cotton candy
any hope dissolves anew...
and I’m left, finger scarred,
yet my heart bears all the proof.
Burning candle
melt my sorrow,
cast away my doubts and fears;
let them smolder in your fire,
let them blow away like smoke.
Free my soul from these binds,
from the thoughts that ensnare me,
from the jailer,
the traitor,
myself.

by j.c. monterrosa

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