In trying to replicate an earlier state
I go too far

fifteen and another chance to comb my hair
and preen

get the fire brigade
dial 999 and
I'm back to the time
before
the house burned down.

I'm always racing against the flame
raging against the pain
fighting the time
nothing is real and it's really not mine to tell
where hell exists
but this feeling persists
inbuilt maybe
wired into me
wrongly.