the hurricane candle
maybe in another life you’d be a person but I can see all you want to be is the sun
my candle baby, you’re different than before deep red wax carved to the shape of a boy you wouldn’t fit in my glass bottle so I’ll walk with you rigid in my palms I’ll shut my eyes to the rest of the world while I stare at the flame you hold whispering prayers that I won’t trip one pebble or penny in my path to disrupt everything you say you’ve given me and I don’t want you to roll me over and morph my spine anymore because i want to touch your hair and I am terrified you’ll melt away when my face is in the pillow but when i told you i wanted to see your face the cheap scarlet had already stained my thighs my sweet candle baby, you’re less than before heavy red wax casting shadows over my front door I poured my wax into yours in hopes I could raise the melting point now I’m less than and my feet can’t leave the floor and maybe in another life you could sit on someone’s bedside table or maybe you’d be a person but I can see all you want to be is the sun great and known and needed I’ll still ask you why it’s not enough that I melt into your hands my perpetual candle baby, you’ve blistered up my palms you’ll agree to pay for bandages and spit when I scar my arms my fingertips are sore and my knuckles will match yours your contracture scars have carved my shape and now my tightened muscles won’t bend to anyone else’s and I said I don’t want you to fuck me with my ass in the air anymore because I wanted to touch your bones and I was terrified you’d melt away if my eyes weren’t to the flame but when I told you I didn’t want you to fuck me anymore the cheap scarlet was already thick at my feet my hurricane candle baby, I’ve never been so small I’d say the same to you but somehow you’re just as tall I could give you all the gasoline in the world but you make sinkholes when your wax contracts and you can’t see that the cavities in your gut won’t stop growing when you burn but will you listen when I say you’ll be more empty space than power if you don’t slow down? my useless candle baby, where’s your fragrance now? how embarrassing to know your cold throw was a hapless gambit a scent I’d kill to know again, had I known it once before and I’d kill to realise I only see it when I write when the words on the page say that I am the compound you needed to make it but you burn my letters to everyone before I get a chance to read them I think you’d stop smoking up my room if only you’d seen my letter to you but you have burnt every book that could’ve taught you to read
