fire and rain

I'm burning the candle at both ends and wax is slowly dripping down my hands.

I am a fuse, waiting to be ignited, with dreams and hopes and places to go.
Are you my silver match, or the damp, wet rain that drowns my dreams encased in floods of tear streaked walls, too old and too far gone to care.

In the darkness of last night, when the light still shone out bright, we fell asleep beneath the stars painted on my sky.
How do you hold me, how do you hold me in your mind. How did I dream away the darkness in the hope of someone else's dawn.
And yet I carry on. I cry when my eyes are full and I weep for what what could have been.  I smile when I think of that, small moment when he lifted his eyes to me and actually looked at me as if I was different, special and new. I dance when I see the lightning on the hills and know that the rain is coming soon.

The rain is coming soon.


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