Too much. I took my heart and dipped it into white bloodthirsty flames that ignited my whole world like a single burning candle. I used my hands and feet to draw out my entire soul to unveil that world. The candle lost a quarter. I charged myself hard like a bull in red in the middle of an empty field that ran to the ends of the world. The candle was half way. I worked myself hard like the needle in needlework because in the end, I made something beautiful. To me, it was beautiful. Then my eyes bled unhappy tears that rolled down my face as the candle melted to the base. The flame swayed in a hypnotizing way. Its gaze replayed hidden memories. It was a silent film about a butterfly in the wind. The hungry flame incinerated the time I threw away. Then it died pitifully. A tiny trail of smoke was carried away by a gentle, lavender breeze. The candle was no more.