Waking without her
my candle walker has made a home of places in me i only knew as ruin.
and that is what scares me.
not the love itself, but how soft it is.
how it does not arrive with teeth.
how it does not make me beg for warmth, or bleed to prove i am worth staying for.
she loves me like opening curtains in a room i forgot had windows.
and my heart, poor haunted thing, does not know how to trust the morning.
because now i know what it feels like to be held gently.
now i know what my chest sounds like when it is not bracing for impact.
and the thought of waking without her makes every ghost in me reach for the walls.
not because this love is wrong.
because it is healthy.
because it is kind.
because for once, i am not being asked to survive the fire.
i am being asked to believe the candle stayed lit.
-Korrin















