Loose lips, quick quips, sunk ships,
Boys and girls who
Meddle with matches.
Some just want to watch the world burn.
Your face splits into
Glittering “what ifs?”
Breathes new deaths into once lush spaces.
Slash across canvases once thought to be perfect.
You crack, crumble, destroy, devastate,
Clutch at the wisps of innocence and teach it something new,
Cramming its head with news headlines and calluses and voices that never whisper.
You put shattered people back together with borrowed shards.
There can be no repairs without brokenness,
No band-aids without scrapes.
My beautiful disaster,
My golden jewel of rubberneckers and masochists and twisted minds,
You are the fodder to my creativity,
My blank page.
You swallow sparrows and bluebirds whole and spit out the bones,
Leaving me to wonder