Scented Candles

She retreated again

Into the world in her head

Treading through the dusty library

Running fingers across stories she’s re-read.

A recluse to the outside world

Her insecurities kindle the fire

Needed to light the bittersweet candle

To burn her all of her desires.

She lights the first candle

Which releases the woody scent

Of her family around the campfire

Helping to put up a tent

Then she lit the second

The metallic smell of blood

When she scraped her knees riding her bike

For the first time in her neighborhood.

She lit candles that let off smells

Of all different kinds

Of warming summer nights

And peeling lemon rinds.

She smelled her dad’s plaid shirt

Before he went off to war

She smelled his mint aftershave

That still lingers at the door.

The aroma of books

Putting her to sleep

Her mother’s minty breath

As she helped her count sheep

A walk in the garden

Of strange and beautiful creatures

And an impossibly bright moon

With human-like features.

All the eccentric perfumes

Combined into the room

Defining who she was

Weaving into life’s loom

She lay there content

As the flames caught the library

The shelves coming down in ashes

Their souls being set free.

Left on the last piece of the smoldering wood

She jumped off of it too

The stories and smells previously plaguing her mind

Evaporating into the blue.