Lighting candles is like watching a person die before your eyes. The flame slowly dwindles out. Sometimes a gust of wind, or someone's breath just puts it out. I want to meet the people that are flickering candles. Pusles of a beat. When she thought of that, he handed her the paper. I am feeling so many things at once, it read. There is a darkness that sits inside of me and I cannot seem to light it on fire. It went on and on as such. To say that maybe this is right and why don't we talk more often. Talk like we did that one time- when he had to leave. It was like in the movies when they kissed.
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