Men like me are easy to love, but hard to hold.
We are creatures of passion. Driven to see and do it all.
To gulp from life's cup with wreckless lips and skyward jaw.
Striving to fill each moment with all that is new, each breath with foreign air.
We burn the candle at both ends.
Hoping to burn out, rather than fade away.
And for many a lover, transfixed by the warm glow of our radiance, it would seem their lips find only smoke and ash.
Dull ache and pain.
They want to hold us close, to watch us dance like swaying candle wicks in a drafty room.
But just as they cherish how unexpected our arrival was, they find the wind that blew us in, also carried us away.
There is something chaotic and careless in our hearts.
For we are the children from caves and shadows.
Curious to a fault and drunk on life.
Better admired from afar, than captured or cared for.
We will leave you like so many broken branches on stormy nights.
And you will have marveled at the way the wind howled when we kissed, only to be haunted by the echo of thunder when we left.
Yes men like me are easy to love, but hard to hold.
© 2022; Eli Brooks. All Rights Reserved
