candlesticks and depression

A Melting puddle

“I grab the candle stick and lighter. I put the candle on my bedstand and light it. I unplug my alarm clock so that my room is completely dark. The only light is the flame flickering. I lay back down and watch the candle.

I can feel the burn in my eyes as tears begin to stream down the side of my face. I just stare at the flame. I watch the flame sway in all different directions. After ten minutes I watch a bead of melted wax roll down the side of the candle. It dries before even making it all the way down the candle stick.

I think about how this candle is symbolic of me. Slowly disappearing. Pieces of me rolling away. Melting, changing, becoming a hard puddle of who I once was. This candle will eventually be unrecognizable. I will soon become unrecognizable. I can feel it coming. Any day now the darkness will take completely over and push me deep into my brain.

I watch the candle melt away bead by bead. Once the candle is a puddle, I watch the flame try to stay lit. It’s at the end of the wick though. The flame slowly gets darker until the wax puts it out. Darkness.”

~~~~~This is a page from my book, I Am Her She Is Me ~~~~