My perfect shape is gone,
No definition left.
All I could do was burn
but he questioned why and
snuffed me out before I
could damage myself more.
Not realising that
he was the one who lit
me up in the first place.
He examines my left-
over wax, wishing I
was still the same bright light.
His ego warm from fanned
flame, enjoyed the soft scent,
soothed by my glow. But then
extinguished. Cold water,
sizzling wick, the warmth gone.
I smoked onto his tongue.
I smoked into his eyes.
He hated the taste of
what he had done to me.
About the Creator
Lacey Dearie
Indie author 📚 Blogger 💻 Humanities student 👩🏻🎓 Editor of the 27th best blog in Scotland apparently 🏆 Unapologetic daydreamer 😑 Natural introvert/selective extrovert 💃🏻 Member of the Cat Writers Association 🐈⬛
Find me on Komi
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More stories from Lacey Dearie and writers in Poets and other communities.
Red Blooded Woman
The conversation is perfect. The bubbles in the Prosecco feel so tickly. They are intoxicating: the conversation, the bubbles and the eyes you're looking into. The flowers on the table are so heady. The candle burns and flutters like the butterflies you have in your...
By Lacey Dearieabout a year ago in Fiction
- Supported by: Ollie
Why Indie and Otis Came to Love OllieSupported by: Ollie
Like most dog moms, the best part of my day is the time spent with my dogs. I have an 8 year old Pittie mix named Indie and a two year old Frenchie mix named Otis. Indie is my soul dog and the love of my life. She has inspired me to become a photographer, a business owner, and a creator, among other things. She is the smartest and most loyal creature who selflessly makes sure that I’m happy above all else. Most of the time, she knows how I’m feeling before I do. When we’re together, she’s my shadow–never more than a few inches from me at all times.
By Brittney Avery4 days ago in Petlife
Comments (1)
Frickin' amazing, my friend. So glad you're writing poetry and really want to read more!