Fire With a Side of Insanity, Please

Papers and photographs are all that's left on this desk you slump over.
A once happy child, possessed by imperfection and solitude, tormented until adulthood.
The one specific photo you look down on, with a fallen ice cream cone on a cloudy day,

With this child screaming on a swing set with joy, Then falling and scraping her knee,
You try and remember the faded memories of that child.
But all that can sum up those years is set in the light in the corner of the room,
flickering and about to go out.

The devastation is set on your face. You're standing on the border between denial and insanity.
Denial of the suppression of the many good things you have left behind.
Insanity being the life you dreamed of, but never being capable to reach.
Self doubting since the beginning of your existence. A nasty habit that you cannot shake.

You stare at the light in the corner of the room, so far away you think.
So you reach for it, thinking the light will bring you closer to something meaningful and worth living.
The bouquet of roses sits in the trash to the left, a lighter lies in your hand with the safety off.
To the right sits super glue and large bandages. A pencil to jot down the note you've been working on for all to see.

You continue to slump over this desk that supports most of your childhood.
You cover up the pictures of the girl in pink dresses and a smile on her face.
Instead the papers of apathetic letters and remorse comments to former lovers and friends cover them.

The sarcasm in your tone is tedious to those around you.
Incapable of understanding you have been reduced yourself to these few things in the room in which you lie on the desk in.
The door is closed, the key in the trash below the bouquet which was disregarded. Inside a broken heart is waiting.
With these bandages and glue which stands at your right; they would have had a purpose.

As the papers and photographs are spread out on the desk, you lift yourself up with the last bit of strength you can conjure.
With the lighter in one hand, you grab the light with the other. It goes out.
The lighter comes in handy.
You, striking it, and dropping it on the life you left behind.