The Purple Flame

Reads: 237  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A way for me to vent about what happened with me and my two closest friends.

Poem 1: 

 

The Purple Flame has slipped from my fingers. 

 

It quietly dropped into the abyss without so much as a whisper. 

Why didn’t you tell me? It would’ve been easier. 

I didn’t have even the slightest hint to prepare me for the void. 

So I sit in a cloud of bustling agony,

Wondering that disgusting question I always ask. 

What happened?

 

I suppose this is a joke of some kind, right?

How one blissful second I was feeling perfectly content, 

Only to then be met with a shattering emptiness. 

Was it an unrecognized mistake I stupidly made again?

Was it a piercing conflict boiling within your own home? 

Was it something else that I’ll never be able to know?

I try to ask you, but our words are no more.

 

I can’t remember how long it’s been since The Purple Flame died. 

Perhaps a couple of terrible days, or a series of haunting weeks. 

Time is a choking concept when I can’t feel your comforting warmth.

I like to say it’s not fair to make me wait so suddenly, 

But those thoughts change nothing. 

That’s okay, since I know life is only my meaning. Our meaning. 

And now, my meaning is trembling. 

 

Perhaps I can ease the slitting blood with memories. 

If they would allow me the all too fast chance to remember.

You remember what we did, right? At least just barely? I do. 

My mind is drowning in the dream-like moments. 

Our private texts of dirty secrets and silly ideas. 

Our tears encrusted calls of beating hearts and pleading voices. 

Our infinitely wondrous and euphoric stories and games. 

The touches of happiness gained from your every compliment. 

The warm security of knowing you were trying just as I was.

 

How could something as important as all that just turn off?

 

It’s a lacerating time just as this that makes me wish

I could cry. 

Yet I know those memories and my emotions change nothing.

Just like before, with everyone else. 

What’s so different about this moment in what’s called ‘life’? 

 

I’d say the obvious, but you’d still be gone. 

The Purple Flame would still be extinguished. 

I would still be able to do exactly nothing. 

Maybe I should wait, and maybe I should forget. 

The endless thoughts threaten to hang me. 

There is only one way to know. 

 

Poem 2:

 

My road has again melted into a loner’s.

 

It is once again a black canyon of spiked paths and crippling mist. 

It seems I frustratingly find myself here once more. 

One part of me throws blame at The Purple Flame, 

But the other knows there is no fault. 

It is a scary state to be in, such as how life will have it. 

And yet here I somehow stand in shaking shoes. 

 

I don’t know how I can find a ‘balance’. 

The perfect form of being continues to elude me. 

The way to embrace Life’s warm broths,

While still being steeled enough to stand the freezing infections.

It’s a feeling you’ve mercilessly told me so many times. 

It’s one of the many that melded our flames ever so tight. 

I suppose that’s why I feel so vacant now.

So confused and hopeless.

 

But it was your choice to leave, wasn’t it?

 

All that happens silently ends up in its own way. 

I’ve forcibly told myself that I will see my end.
I guess I just didn’t realize how hard it would be with this in my way. 

It’s just like your many echoing cries, isn’t it?

It is just one of my many.

Scattered in the dark.

 

If I push forward with anxiety filled feet, 

Then it would just be another thing we’d do together. 

Even though our together is no longer in the light. 

 

No matter how hard I pierce the silence with my screams, 

You’re still going to be trudging through your path. 

If that is really the case, as always, then shouldn’t I also?

It’s what you’d want, right?

We can’t let our Flames die. 

 

Even though I’ve already lost the match. 












 

Poem 3: 

 

I’m scared to think of the reality without The Red Flower.

 

It really shocks me with warm surprise that it was here. 

The carrier of luck. 

The bringer of faith. 

The stem that blossomed a new power. 

The Red Flower that rejuvenated my soul.

 

It’s a beauty that shines in the right times. 

Everything needs its moments to truly glow. 

I had plethoras of doubts, 

And seas of sentient torments. 

But The Red Flower heeded my drowned out call, 

And embraced me with a gentle hug. 

 

I always forget how strong a simple action can be. 

 

It may not have been much, but it was a spring. 

A compression of words which threw me forward once again.

Towards the purple horizon I had ceased to find. 

We said a lot, but the core remains the same even now. 

“They will come back. I’m sure of it. I believe in them.” 

 

Isn’t that what you would tell me?

The what-if’s still flood my mind like a nest of hornets,

But those words froth at a pace of miracles.

Somehow, they’ve injected the thoughts that I need.

The ones I lost. 

The power I was going to give up on. 

 

But now, I feel a bit better. 

 

The Red Flower’s empathy and understanding,

It’s determination and forward drive, 

It cleans the dirty charcoal within me. 

 

The questions linger as searing burns, 

But the push has again become clear. 

 

Thanks to The Red Flower,
I have found my treasured faith, 

For The Purple Flame. 

 

And yet,

I wonder what I’ll think once I reach the end. 

Will it tear, or create?
 

There is only one way to tell. 

 

Poem 4:
 

Once again Life presents me with an unexpected gift. 

 

Tonight is a time to pour out tears of glowing relief. 

It’s a moment to lay back sweetly and consider what Life is.

It’s a second to weave my hand through the fuzzy grass,

And give thanks that I live. 

 

You returned so simply, yet powerfully. 

 

The Purple Flame burst to life in just a quick message. 

In just a short series of words on the screen, 

You made my life better. Again. 

 

It’s hard to tell just what feeling flows through me now. 

The total hopelessness being broken by the new warmth. 

The utter sadness being shattered by the total joy. 

You would know what I mean, right? You always do. 

 

I have to thank The Red Flower for its impossibly potent power.

I have to thank my own scarred intuition for shoving me onwards. 

I have to thank The Purple Flame for never truly losing its path. 

 

I can only send a few words of complete meaning. 

They are ones that are tossed around a lot, 

But you know I don’t waste words.

 

You’re my best friend, and I’m so happy to see you again. 

 

No matter what Life gives us in the future, 

No matter what we may end up doing, 

I will always be here for you.

I know you will always be here for me, too. 

 

So, before everything else commences once again, 

I would like to say it. 

It’s what you already know. 

 

I love you.

Thanks for coming back to me. 

 


Submitted: October 31, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Curon. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

More Poetry Poems

Other Content by Curon

Poem / Poetry

Short Story / Other