Darling, you could only burst
and explode in the perimeters of a cardboard room,
The least collateral damage you could cause,
would be to the neighbors walls in the adjacent tomb.
But here as I stand, the breeze yanking both arms of my jacket,
I'm embracing a volcano and savoring the heat,
Till all of my senses are saturated,
the soles of my feet well acquainted with the earth's crust beneath.
I take this as a sign,
Close the very last eye of mine.
And drink in the untamed air,
And volunteer my lungs with a prayer.
I** could only ricochet,
The familiar ashes of me washed down with the fireworks,
And to your cardboard room, I'll be a new moon,
Disguised as a sun wearing a blazing smirk.
You'll try to keep track of the collateral damage,
And mourn the burnt pieces you found that once shone,
You'll think the big bang was the chaos of the world,
Your bent neck could never show you that bygones shall be bygones.
