such pretty things

 Sometimes I am the spark that sets off the fireworks,

Other times I am the wire that trips the bomb. 

Either way, I've blown it all up again. 


Sometimes I am the fireworks,

Other times I am the bomb. 

Either way, I've blown myself up again. 


Such pretty things are thrust into the sky,

It rains around me - 

I rain around me. 


Must I pick myself up again?

Must I put together the pieces?

I'm certain I'll explode.

I'm certain it all will.


But maybe it won't.

Maybe that's enough. 

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