Some memories
fall on you 

then stick hard,
burn like napalm.

Others slide down,
make happy gas puddles

where you splash
until the napalm

you already wear
ignites them.

You in flames forever, 
no matter

the pool or river where
you fling yourself,

seems to be what’s been
allotted for you.

You in flames no matter which
Bible verse, contrived or authentic,

you turn to 
for comfort.

You tell yourself
others will see better

in your Agony light,
sustain themselves over your fire,

stay warm in darkness.
You tell yourself it’s enough

to be this and dry out within
until all you are is fuel.