I am emotionally bankrupt;
I have nothing left to give,
Unless you are searching for a train wreck.
The ash on my skin sends people running
I think.
Or maybe their noses pick up a trace of disaster.
Broken people like to break things,
To make things feel okay
For a fraction of a second
But
Destruction isn't pretty
Agony was never beautiful,
The kind of pain that prickles your nerves
And sets your entire body on fire.
People know that fires burn down cities,
And that's what I am.
I am a fire
I burn
I ruin
I destroy.
At least
Fires are supposed to keep people warm and give off light,
But I am a fire as black as midnight,
Burning you with ice.
