Caffeinated Chaos
Former timber crumbles between thumb and forefinger
Sifting through debris like slack fingers through beach sand
Residue cakes oily palms like pulverized chalk
Mix in sweat and a smear of foundational red clay
Improvised war paint, your hands a visage of a decade of bottled emotion
One spark of heat on fabric, one shock of anger on dapperness
And all the walls come tumbling down
Footprints in soot trace your path through the tamed carnage
Like the first footsteps on untrodden snow
Those prints feel as if they tarnish the purity of the setting
Odd, tarnishing the purity of the wake of a monster
Whose hissing spittle dissolved your life in a bath of flame
You have destroyed their serenity and they are timid to falter yours
That conflagration destroyed normality and denuded privacy
Cleansed memory, exfoliated the fabrication of contentment
There are no more walls to hide my discomposure
Let all the decorated strangers bare witness to the macabre ceremonies
Yellow helmeted soldiers deployed too late to see battle
They now stand vigil, in groups, to observe my ruin and drink their coffee
What was my shell has ceased to be, what is left of me?
Sifting through debris like slack fingers through beach sand
Residue cakes oily palms like pulverized chalk
Mix in sweat and a smear of foundational red clay
Improvised war paint, your hands a visage of a decade of bottled emotion
One spark of heat on fabric, one shock of anger on dapperness
And all the walls come tumbling down
Footprints in soot trace your path through the tamed carnage
Like the first footsteps on untrodden snow
Those prints feel as if they tarnish the purity of the setting
Odd, tarnishing the purity of the wake of a monster
Whose hissing spittle dissolved your life in a bath of flame
You have destroyed their serenity and they are timid to falter yours
That conflagration destroyed normality and denuded privacy
Cleansed memory, exfoliated the fabrication of contentment
There are no more walls to hide my discomposure
Let all the decorated strangers bare witness to the macabre ceremonies
Yellow helmeted soldiers deployed too late to see battle
They now stand vigil, in groups, to observe my ruin and drink their coffee
What was my shell has ceased to be, what is left of me?