Unspeakable yet bursting on my tongue.
Keeping slow poison in my heart and knowing the map to potential misery I hold.
My feet steeling themselves for the treacherous path that I still only truly know.
[It's...]
The frozen moment before the window breaks.
[That...Knowing ...]
This jagged rock lies in my pocket--
everything that touches me feels as though it's about to shatter.
The false illusion that I can protect anyone from sadness.
I am the eye of the storm.
An epicenter of grief.
Ripples in lava. But alas.
I have become Pompeii.
And no act of Earth
or sky can stop this.
So forward march,
And away we go.