light and fire

tiny little flame, coals, going out, beautiful, desperate

light and fire, i am a
little flame, in a small dark
space, i am binding wind, feeling it
tug back hair on skin, a fluttering
smoking coal fighting to say anything
close to 'hope' without the 'less' and
i wish it wasn't so sad, so me, so much
work to keep this little flame alive, and it is
getting cold, it's been cold, but it really is 
now, and the spark so small, is it really so insignificant, i think
i'm tired, tired and winded, i think i'm managing, i think i'm
worried that this fire is more about me and 
if i look away, if i do anything
out of the ordinary, if i do anything but
wish and watch and wish that it'll be just a blink and 
end with a breath, even my own subtle cough, and 
woosh, it's all gone...

ah, there, here, i am seeing
my fear isn't really about the fire, it's really being alone,
in the dark, and oh this fire is merely a sign of me keeping me 
warm, and i'm so tired of me keeping me keeping me, throwing
kindling from my mind upon a fire that is only dying...

and i know the worst is that this isn't the way it's supposed to be, 
the promise, the fire, the promise, oh, i can see it just behind my ears
bright, burning, a quiet whisper, burning, oh that voice--oh that
song, it's so far away, it's through the dark, is it far away? is it dark? Lord,
am i always so alone here? what does it take to light a fire again?
it is just me?
it can't be.