Candles

The Candle on the Table.

Night wind caresses the candle.
Flickering, it lights the table.
Defiant against the situation.
Burns without hesitation.
Wax slowly drips,
life slowly slips.

The flame dominant,
burning brightly in the night.
The flame is prominent,
charismatically bright.
The flame is current,
existing in the winter’s blight.

Pooling wax drowns the wick,
in the end, it does the trick.
Used up until it melts,
candles burn themselves out.

Produce light till they die,
they’ll get dimmer overtime.
Never says goodbye,
and leaves shadows behind.

I thought I saw her today.

The Ghost of Utopia

Face melts like paint running down the canvas,
brown irises turn green, no wait - they were green to begin with.
Chubby cheeks melt, like fat off a bone. Slobber dripping down from the
hyena’s mouth mounting her.    

My Spirit Animal is a Dragon.

My spirit animal is a dragon,
But I don't spout fire as a sign of dominance,
nor am I able to fly in the air with such confidence.
My skin isn't hard like scales,
a single scratch of a finger nail and I can bleed.

But like a dragon, I'm not free.
Cowarding in my cave, laying on top of my gold.
Protecting it for days when I'll grow old.
Only going outside to get more,
everything else in the world is a chore.

I'll cuddle my cold coins until I groan,
be it the early visit of death or sharpened sword of a knight.
I'll more certainly die before I even spend it all.
Lonely and old, in death I won't have my coins.

For I am the Dragon,
and in this fairy tale,
I'm nothing but someone's small detail.

I Bet You're Lively at Dinner Parties.

I Bet You're Lively at Dinner Parties.

Appliances humming loudly conversing,
Microwave looks radiantly glowing, ready to dance as it's turned on.
Blender roaring laughing, mixing and grinding with others.
Fridge and Freezer hitting it off, fans spinning non-stop, finishing each other sentences.
Stove is foreign, but natural. Big and beautiful it doesn't need help to be warmed up.
Television stares across the room, blank screen, turned off from the kitchen's gossip.
Blur-ray is wanting to go out to the movies.

I try to talk.
No response.
They just stay silent, humming, judging, unmoving,
and burning my fucking dinner.