My head burns with the fires of the past,
With the scramble of words round skull,
Faster and faster, truth ricocheted off lies,
And smashed against the ever-crumbling screams,
That won't stop looping
And looping
And blurring
And looping
And with each stale copy another shade lost,
Another angle forced into the frame
Of a single photograph I saw maybe once
Of a child with hope in her eyes
And a teenager with no light left imposed upon her
Until it all blends into one.

One soul, one past, one future,
Not enough.