My candle flickers with the strength of my faith. My faith in myself, what I write, the words I send into the night. To ears that are opened or closed, it matters not as long as a release is found through moving fingers. Fingers that match the steady beat of my need, a need to write my moments for myself. Would I care if I offended the world when the world has already offended me. Offends me daily. Fuck that. Instead I will rest easy upon the cane of my own convictions. The strength to say what I wish no matter the consequences.
They blow upon your light and cause your candle to flicker. It flickers with a will to matter, not to die under the scrutiny of others. Would I ask permission for the right to breathe from another? Begging to borrow a little light to live? I would rather die a thousand lives in the shadows than to owe my existence to another. Flicker me to death if you must, but I will always be here.
I will always be me.