The shape of the past fits inside the rough, broken puzzle piece in my heart. Broken and beat by the dark grays and tans of the world. The rust can only be knocked off by the fluorescent yellows and blues. Turning the color wheel on the outside turns the color wheel on the inside. Only focusing on the blues, greens and purples only allows you to feel cold and hard. Throwing away this broken piece and embracing the flame reignites the light and spins your color wheel. Surrounding oneself with reds and yellows and oranges will ignite a brand new bright blood orange. Now the smell of a campfire radiates the air with open arms. Finally the puzzle is complete, only finished because of a small spark.