once upon a time there was innocence
and now there is only a broken record of memories,
the tortured screams that echo in the darkest corners of a mind
that was once filled with light.
everything has changed
fire crackling, worming its way through the wood,
popping and snapping inside
as it warms a house used to mean comfort
now it is only a memory of fear.
the fire was crackling that night as
innocence fled the scene of its own murder
and hiding under blankets with the sound
of a fire crackling nearby was the only way
to keep a little bit of sanity.
now that sanity is driven away by that sound
as the comfort needed at that time,
became attached to the memory of why
comfort was needed in the first place.