chaotic, impulsive, a mess

the thing about my cosmic ability to destroy
is that when i leave, something beautiful happens
(from ash sprouts life)
and again, within a short time, they are blossoming
just not ever while i am there.

when i take with my hands and allow
what is worn to crumble away
(suddenly the edges feel new)
i am too much and i burn too much, but i burn off decay
it is only after my hurt that some things can ripen.

i am so very lonely, even as i leave beauty behind me
change is unpleasant and nobody likes my habits
(i learned this at a young age)
so i try to destroy something i was never supposed to
i singe my own self – starting at the corners and joints.

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