Candles

What affliction is desire?

     Of waiting

          Knowing in the end

      That you are not wanted.

It is the inklings of another's

      Seeming affection

That baits us ever forward

      And yet,

           In reflection

      There's

          There.

The ache you feel is self-inflicted

     Slow torture

     Of seeing more

          Than what is there.

Rationally, we know why.

     Know what other priorities

     Lay indelicately

          Affection to the side.

We know what Fears

     A sweet caress

     Can command.

          We know what hidden

          Woe

     Would prefer to hide

          Never venturing forth

               Into the rain.

We're tired of wanting to be wanted

     Of hoping for

          Affection's sound

     Offered not as a response

          But as a desire:

     Of warmth stirred

          From a warm heart

     That pretends to play it cool.

What do we get out of this

     Pointless longing?

Why would our heart persist

     Against the silent wall

          Forged of self-preservation

That brings isolation

     To the heart that would

     Rather not be lonely

     If not for the past

          And the echoes of fear

Bouncing off those self-same

          Walls.

It should be us who flees,

     But there are

          Cracks

               In

     The

          Wall

And the occasional light

          That spills from them

     Ignites a new wick

          Though the silence would snuff

     Each candle that marks the

          Time.

Now the candle burns low

     And I fear that the wind

          Will blow

     And that I'm running

          Out of

               Candles.