My Candle

April 5

Hailey Spear, guest writer

There is a candle inside me.

Inside my brain. 

Everyone has a candle

They come in all shapes and sizes

My candle cannot control the speed in which it burns

Somedays, my candle burns slowly, the wax carefully dripping into its plate

Other days, my candle burns quickly, the wax pooling around its base

Today, my candle burns faster than usual.

As life brings inconveniences, the burning gets faster.

I blow on the flame, but the flame only blazes brighter. 

I keep blowing, and blowing, trying to stop the burning.

My candle keeps getting smaller and smaller.

Please stop burning, candle.

I can’t keep blowing on you.

It’s not working anymore.

Please slow down.

My candle continues to burn, 

Until it stops.

My candle is now a hot puddle of wax.

The wick completely soaked.

The candle inside my brain is gone.

I can’t keep living without it.

Someone help me.

Please, help me get back my candle.