Pattern

There’s a pattern

A cycle

A rhythmic wave

A dance

A moth and a flame

I am the moth, not quite beautiful enough

Insecurities rampant

Self inflicted

And the flame, self assured, nonchalant

Forever out of reach

Can’t seem to get close enough

And I try

I try much longer than needs be

Seared wings and heart rupture, same outcome

The flame burns out

Then relights, only to dissipate, turn to dust

And I am left feeling like I was the only one who felt love

Why am I not good enough?

Where do I go wrong?

I disgrace myself… no dignity, no shame

The flame relights to burn another day.

And I am left with this scar and self induced torment for the rest of my days

Alas,

New Flame