Candles trade their wax for a faithless mistress
A match lives only to burn itself into ash
I can remember cold Julys and molten Januarys
Veiled days and moonlit midnights
Morning fogs that glowed so bright they blinded
Stars that forgot their names and fell from their constellations
Existence weaves in and out of nothingness
All things contradict themselves in time
Matches snap unlit upon the strike
Waxes submerge their own protean flames
I contradict myself with every breath
and every breath with the very next one.
Author’s Notes:
I’m not sure what I think of this one. It’s trying to say something broader and more assertive than I usually prefer (I’m suspicious of poems that try to act wise or teach some sort of lesson) but the whole theme of this poem is self-negation and contradiction, so that’s probably ok.
The word protean is an awful and obscure word to use, but for some reason, I decide that this is a pretentious enough poem that it deserves a pretentious word.
Favorite Line:
Stars that forgot their names and fell from constellations
Most Cringeworthy, Pretentious Line:
Waxes submerge their own protean flames