Spilled Tea

Cold Water

Cold water.
It feels good down my throat
and into my body.
I can almost feel it
soothing the burns.
Everything has been on fire.

White hot fire,
the type that burned the thing
that was my everyday security.
Quickly and to ashes,
almost nothing as evidence
it ever existed.

I usually like darker skies.
Today they look like smoke.
I think they are an omen.
The familiarity of it sickens me.
The nostalgia is not
a friendly feeling.

I know that I forget my calm,
but I do not completely lose it.
In those moments,
I believe I completely
and utterly lost it.
But I did not use many words.

Is this karma?
I'm not sure.
I always assumed
we had agreement.
I always assumed
I was among friends and trust.

Some think I am catastrophizing.
I know this well enough
to be aware that I am right.
All good things seem to come to an end
in this life of mine.
Each one burns to dust.

More cold water.
It's helping my breathing.
I need more rest.
I'm not good at fresh starts
and I don't think I ever will be.
Here's to the start of a new end.