A Delicate Flame

I have stood at the top of many mountains. I have conquered the behemoth’s I stand above, and on. Many upon many men have conquered, but only one mountain. They allowed the mountain’s altitude to dwindle their pitiful salvation. They all thought there would never be another mountain such as this. I know triumph first hand. Left Hand. I know love first hand. Broken. I have seen the catastrophes played out over and over again. They never could make me blink. But you. Only you. You brought me down to my knees, as I prayed at the alter before you. You searched down your path so desperately as to why it could never be. Never once searching down your path as to how the truest love could be. Another waking isolation hazard. Another melancholy moment memorized momentarily. Seductress with slit wrists. Priscilla. Broken glasses. Hugs which do not last as long as they should. Black rats. Dreams of reckonings. I am your reality check. I am the mirror you refused to look into. The one you tried to shatter into a million pieces. I will cut through you every time. You will eventually find your way down your path. If you let go and fully open your eyes, you will see it has been in front of you this whole time.

Leave a comment