POEMS for everything

The Crashed Party

I can't have my fairytale.
I can't be the one in the million that defies the rules.
I've known that deep down but still I kept my ideas.
I thought I could even prove myself wrong.
I could be this shining golden being. Someone who had his cake and got to eat it to.
No I got my cake alright and when I tried to eat it I choked on it.
I let my dreams and hope and happiness fill my throat.
I let it cut the oxygen to my brain.
I let it send me into a black out.
And when I came to I found the room destroyed.
I found the once gold and silver chandelier crashed on the floor.
My ideas of my future that lit the candles extinguished and the belief that held it up disconnected from the ceiling.
I found the stained glass windows shattered as if a shot gun shot a million bullets of truth at them.
I found the very floor I woke up on scratched and tore up.
As if all my fears clawed their way out of my basement and broke through the floor my feet used to dance on.
I found the walls stripped of their beautiful wallpaper.
Revealing the tattered remains of who I hated.
I found the table which used to sit my closest confidants, now reduced to mere shrapnel and the antique chairs that used to adorn it thrown across the room in a dark corner.
I found my bookshelf that used to hold my ideas and hopes and every detail of me, smashed with the books that used to keep it company burning in the middle of the room.
The pages writhed in the bright red fire.
Crumpling to black and being carried into the air by smoke.
The smoke filling up the room. Clogging my lungs.
Filling up my body with corrupted air. Lastly the music that used to flow like soft water in the room, I found was now a torrent.
A cyclone that was once my passion and happiness tore through everything.
Taking pieces of what was left and throwing them against the walls.
I lay as the room grows more chaotic. As I take in the scene the fire and cyclone mix throwing flame into the rafters.
The foundation begins to crumble. Bits and pieces of the cap of the room fall to the floor.
Whole chunks begin to crash down and sync to the thud of my heart.
In one last plea I weep.
I grieve for not only myself but who I was and who I dreamed, of the stars I see now, to be.
I moan and use everything that flows through me and throw everything that is inside of me out.
I scream at the world, the fake world I created and the one that broke free around me.
I yell at myself.
I groan at the pain that hits me as the fire touches me and the ceiling cuts me.
I release every once of power I have. Wishing and willing.
I ask for all of this to end.
For the wallpaper to be reattached and for the floor to be boarded up.
For the glass on the floor to be pieced back together.
For the table to be glued to how it was.
For the fire to be put out and the books placed neatly on the shelf.
For the chandelier to be restrung and the candles replaced.
For the music to be sung to the right key.
I feel betrayed by the very sky.
The cake was poisoned all along and everyone knew except for me.
They took the opportunity and tore me apart.
So I take the extinguished candle from the cake and I clench it.
I wish with every fiber of my being yet to no fruition.
Then I am crushed under a support beam and I have my life force kicked out of me.
In those final moments I see a piece of green glass glittering from the fire and I see a glimpse of myself in it.
But it's not who I've grown accustomed to.
It's a grotesque being with flesh melted and hair singed.
The eyes are clouded with gray smoke.
There's nothing left of the person I was in the reflection.
I look away in disgust.
In the night sky there's a million stars staring at me.
Watching my final moments of humanity slip.
As I close my eyes to the tragic scene I see a shooting star.
Taking its beauty in.
Envious of its grace but knowing its just like me.
It seems perfect but in reality it's just bits of dust and space debris burning up in the atmosphere.
Inevitably crashing towards the earth.
It will be degraded to nothing but a few specs of dust before it even gets a chance to touch the earth.
So in sync we burn off our beauty and become dust. Destroyed by our own selves.