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I thought I’d lose myself

In poetry, or other bullshit.

I thought I’d lose myself

In the rain, or the wind, or

The vastness of the ocean

Because everything was beauty,

And what better way to go

Than to fall in pursuit of more.

I thought I’d lose myself

In the burning of it all,

In the brightness.

Because burning out was romantic.

What I knew, all I knew, was

When a candle goes out,

It’s mesmerizing. It smells good,

Like summer-

A power trip.

The truth is, I lost myself

In the inbetween. It’s cold

Here- My eyes hurt.

Optimism was not a virtue,

But a deficit; kindness was

Weakness.

Of course it was weakness.

Of course when a candle goes out,

It doesn’t smell like raging, or

Wildfire. There is no fall.

It smells like smoke, for a

Moment. Then,

Nothing.