To Beautiful Disasters



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

Slippery smiles,


Glittering “what ifs?”




Smoke consumes,


Breathes new deaths into once lush spaces.

Flames rise,


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.


And you,

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

What remains.


About Kate I. Foley 0 Articles
Kate I. Foley is an 18-year-old author, actress, daydreamer, voracious reader, introvert, feminist, klutz, fangirl, and overuser of tape. She is a contributor to the FAUXPOCALYPSE anthology and the book THE AUDACITY TO BE A WRITER. You can follow her on Twitter at @Magic_Violinist or visit her blog at, where she talks about her love of YA novels, Broadway musicals, and her dog Scout.

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