Flickers

The candle flickers, there is no change in air. The dead are screaming “no!” There are no words to describe the true reasons why, but there are words that mirror the shallowest of reasons. There is an answer for all questions asked, but the candle will flicker in a silent conversation with the individual here. It is never the same as it used to be, there is no black smoke this time, and there is only a long flame that is quick to burn all that is near.

The remembrances are what cause the dead to scream, to tell… Nothing is being told, nothing that can be spoken of. There are only secret motives, sad, sad motives. There still exist tired dreams of what there is a hope for, but they will not materialize. Nothing materializes anymore, nothing other than the flame flickering. There are goodbyes and meltdowns of something that was once solid and is now let as if nothing into the air.

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