i’m tired of these tears falling down my face
i’m tired of reigning second place
a shadow cast by one who loves more than I
I swear i’m not an arsonist when he crumbles there and dies
whomever starts the spark holds power in their hands yet the power of the blaze must be illuminated by the air
where is my air
my charming
my fate?
I hold the match and the passion. Now I wait.
(Source: find-the-beauty-within, via scattered-brokenthoughts)