306/365: Damp Candle

Sometimes the sadness is going to bleed off you in all directions,
shoot out of your pores in a million tiny, sad, blue sparks
like those fireworks that whistle and fizzle out like damp candles,
and there is not a damn thing you can do about,
not a damn thing,
because all the joy was wrung out of you and drained away
when someone didn't turn around to look at you,
didn't even turn to see what your eyes were doing,
because they were wrung out first
and beat you to exhaustion.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com