By candlelight
I carve out a life alone,
convinced
that I’m unlovable.
Insecurities, like bees,
pollinate fear
into brilliant blossoms.
I fall hard.
I fall deep,
red and black
and bleeding.
Lifted into flight,
beauty
frightened by love.
Poetry through the Seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Love what you’ve done with those images – the pumpkin carving, Willow’s insectlike magic lights.