moth to a flame

{03.01.2017}

Heat. It's a good feeling, a warm feeling. Falling asleep to the hum of a heater in the winter, or the scent of burning candles. I've always loved candles, it could be because my hands were always cold or it could be that they're just nice to watch. Watching them dance in the dark, a bright flame dancing... just like us. The flame swaying back and forth, like some of us do, unpredictable. Never knowing which way we'll be pushed next, leaving us without a way to prevent things from happening. We're going to stumble and we're going to fall, but we'll always balance out in the end.

But we play with it nonetheless, fire. Satisfying, challenging, fun. Kids sneak out, drink, do drugs, all of the things they know they shouldn't be doing. They're playing with fire, just a matter of time before it blows up in their faces, a matter of time before they're hooked since they just had to be rebellious with the rules.

Then they're caught and say, "Why'd I let that one person ruin my life?" as they're handcuffed with their chest pressed to the hood of a car while red and blue lights flash in the background. But what they never realize is that the one person never ruined it, they only ruined it for themselves.