I held my light in the palm of my hand.
Hidden within my clutch, it shone with radiance.
I kept it to myself, grasped it tightly-
Always afraid it would burn out if it were set free.
For I knew the darkness of the world could quickly consume.
I cherished it, until I thought I had found someone deserving.
As per usual, my light became too bright too soon,
Its beams shined through my clutching hands,
And I naively let my fire dance & burn, unguarded.
Sad to say, I was right to hesitate,
My worries & fears became premonitions,
And my premonitions became lucid.
I innocently assumed the position of the bright veneer to your dark soul.
You began to dim my shining beacon to illuminate your charcoal filled tomb–
Finding a fascination with my purity,
Infatuated with my phosphorescent mystique.
Blinded by, but dependent on my omnipresent light.
You dragged down my brightly burning star to pull yourself out of your black hole.
Sacrificing my most valuable virtue to escape your perpetual darkness.
Leaving me vulnerable & empty,
But I could not be your eternal flame,
To be coddled or shrouded.
I could not shine from your detrimental pedestal,
Only to be veiled by your lonely shadows.
I refused to let you quell my precious flame,
For without my light, I would be exactly like you–
I would be nothing but darkness.