And so I flicker.

Flicker

ˈflɪkə/

verb

(of light or a source of light) shine unsteadily; vary rapidly in brightness.

(of a flame) burn fitfully, alternately flaring up and dying down.

And so I flicker. 

As an indecisive flame, I flicker.

Firey outside and ice-cold inside, I flicker.

Not knowing whether I’ve lit your life up or burnt it down to ash, I flicker.

Not knowing where and who to pour my light to, I flicker. 

Dodging this chance and nailing that one, I flicker.

Seemingly filled with power but actually too tired to stand tall and steady, I flicker. 

Waiting for life to happen, waiting for life to do me the honour and decide for me, I flicker.

“Alternately flaring up and dying down” they say, and all I’m waiting for is someone to put me out as if I never happened. As if I wasn’t even there.

But then you come along.

You hold me with your two bare hands and that’s when even I, your very own source of warmth, I glow. 

The longer you keep me around, the more I realize, it’s you who’s lighting up my life not the opposite.

And so I flicker, willingly, powerfully and without a fear in my heart. I flicker and flicker just for you.

Time moves on and the warmth of your hands makes me melt. You mistake my molten cry for help for a shout of anger and you let go of me.

I flicker all the way down to the ground, as hard as I can for you to notice. But you don’t. And so I die down willingly, un-regrettably and without a fear in my heart. I die down just for you.