By Katelyn H., TIWP Student

“I’ll light up my soul with a match and let it sing.” — Anne Sexton

I’ll light up my soul with a match and watch it glow in the dark.
I’ll see it fading in and out to the rhythm of my heartbeat
and watch it become the bonfire of a campsite where my friends can stargaze.
It looks like the blinking of lights at a party, where chatter turns into white noise.
It resembles the flames of a candle on a birthday cake,
and I make a wish even if I know nothing will be granted.
The resonance reminds me of fireflies, though I’ve never met them in person.
It almost feels like something familiar.
I’ll see it flicker like a short circuit of a motor I failed to create in science class. 
It whirred faster and faster without stopping, kind of like the peculiar blue globe we inhabit.
The sight clicks on and off like a fidget toy,
the small white box with buttons that my best friend held as her legs shook 
and feels like a rapid speed bump, one that makes my soda spill,
the twang of the violins in the school orchestra that still manages to sound coherent
and the biting of nails in a testing room.
The ignition feels weird but right, and I wonder what it takes for it to be extinguished.