Ashes

Ashes to ashes,

my lungs full of dust.

Growing from their ruins,

love wasn’t enough.


Growing in the flames,

burning all the same.

No point of bandages 

that will incinerate off.

Forced to feel.

Must wait to heal.


When the fire stops

I will try to find peace in the ashes.

My skin is painted black;

I must cleanse my body of your mistakes:

remove the poison from inside,


let go of the hate 

which fueled the flames

in order to stop the burning.


I rewrite my DNA to rid myself on them,

erase both 50s in a hundred percent.

Then what’s left of me?

0

And if I am nothing, am I really anything?

Anyone?

I am lost,

learning the truth,

and learning how alone really they left us.