I sat on the floor, in a sea made of paper
It might’ve been Christmas or April exams
My feet they were cold and hands they were numb
I wished that my blood could warm on command
But never, love, and never mind,
Collect the kindling,
Well, who has the time?
Because fire can’t start in a damp and dark heart
So I tipped the candle to light up the room
Imitation of life, it took to dancing,
Curling its skirts as it swept through the gloom
I heard hands on the door, were they pounding for more?
Broken words burning through, saying,
“help, be here soon”
But forever, love, is ever unkind
Long sleeves in summer
To hide what reminds
Of cinder songs, just ash all along
Shallow whispers from wood
And the match that withstood the flame
Are all that remain.