erratically spiking, and with each spark
she blazed with the brand of her legacy—
She’d been slashed-and-burned to the third degree.
Inflamed by shame she was a brilliant torch;
radiating emotional heat set to scorch
anyone near, so she drove them away—
Her fiery pain raged more intense every day.
She’d been damaged, long ago, beyond repair--
She was igniting a world that would never be fair.
It was bloody arson that seared through her soul,
engulfed in self-hatred, she burned out of control.
When her oxygen was gone, she dwindled
to just a flame that could not be kindled.
Incinerated hope lay in charred remains
along with a small girl—doused in blame.