I sit here, nestled by candle light.
The sweet smell of the burn, is my delight.
As it burns, I picture my past going through that flame.
Maybe once I forget it, my life will finally be tamed.
At least that is what I tell myself.
Every day and every night,
I try to make things right.
But sadly, no matter how hard I try.
My past always seems to find its way, back through that flame.
And once again I am at a loss.
After that flame dies, I am nothing more than a box of torned memories.
Searching for a flame, that will keep my memories on a high, high shelf.
Where I can no longer be hurt, where I can finally be free.
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