Like a teardrop of wax, trickling down a candle’s side

Her viscosity ephemeral, her scent sweet and fleeting

Slow and steady, pained and dying

But she’s determined

She thinks she can escape

She believes she can leap from the candle’s shoulder

She wonders if she could fly if she tried

She dreams of freedom

But the merciless, cold air halts her fleeing

Seizes her

Captures her

Shackles her

She hardens, a dry, lonely husk

Many other teardrops have tried

All have dried

All have died

Like a candle, burned to a melted, lonely shell

So empty that it cannot cry anymore

And when the tears stop

The flame goes out

Burnout