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Burned Out

The Last Flame

By Britt CreechPublished 10 months ago • 1 min read
Burned Out
Photo by David Tomaseti on Unsplash

A candle flickered, in and out

Between us on the table.

Almost romantic if not for

The low hum of the cable.

There’s a light between us,

But the end of the tunnel is dark.

I feel heat inside me,

But it’s not a spark.

Resentment simmers —

We sip our drinks in sync.

If you can’t say something kind,

Say nothing is all I think.

He finally asks about my day.

Mouth full. Words slurred.

Fire inside me ignites. Disgusted.

The pot boils. The pot’s stirred.

The flame deep down builds.

Not passion. No more doubt.

“I’m done.” I say aloud.

The candle burns out.

He rages— plate shatters,

Flying in my direction.

Finally aflame himself,

Burning from rejection.

His face is red,

Mask of indifference torn.

He weighs showing he cares

Or keeping the mask, he’s sworn.

I relight the candle

Then smash it to the ground —

Setting flames around us to burn

While the cable hums its sound.

Life

About the Creator

Britt Creech

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    Written by Britt Creech