Sleepless my mind churns
surveying the debris of a bomb
I hadn’t intended to detonate
hadn’t truly realized was a bomb

Sometimes, I guess, when you’re playing with fire
you can get lost its flickering glow
the way the flames dance so lovely around one another
the mesmerizing swirl of spark and smoke
the welcoming warmth like hands on your cheeks
pulling you slowly closer…
you can get so lost you forget
that fire burns, consumes, ravages, destroys
leaving only dust

Now I’m left in piles of ash and debris
each ***** remnant bearing the glaring mark of my guilt

When you lose what is dear
grief is the natural response
When you are the one responsible for that destruction
grief becomes a speck of dust
in the auditorium of loss and shame and pain

I wade slowly through the shards of a shattered reality
each cutting deeply at the growing void of hurt within
I have forgone the seeking of comfort
abandoned my search for a salve to soothe the sting

I wander through a town of broken people
beginning to bustle again with life
If they’re living
why do I feel so dead inside?

I walk and wave
inhale the dust of what I’ve destroyed
I hope desperately
that if I look enough like them
play the part well enough
then it will become reality

“I’m doing great. Yeah, I’m mending up just fine. Never better!”

I lie with a smile
sell sweet half-truths to myself
so well I almost believe them

*But then the stillness comes
And your voice echoes in my head
and I can’t shake the hunger for you