Echos To Ashes

Bittersweet, or just a hard pill to swallow? I’ve done this to myself, haven’t I? Watching it crumble around me, Piece by piece, Like everything I once held so tight, Now slipping through my fingers, Flames to ashes, Ashes to dust. I know what I’ve done. I know it all too well. Yet, I feel nothing. Not even the searing burns on my skin, From the fires I set, The wreckage I called my life. All the dreams turned to smoke, The hopes, now embers. I watch them scatter, Lost to the wind. And still, I don’t flinch. I don’t cry. I don’t feel. Should I rebuild? Stack brick upon broken brick, Layer the mortar thick with regret? Or do I revel in the scars I bear, A reminder that I once was capable Of burning it all to the ground? Would healing make me whole, Or leave me hollow? And still, I stand in the ruins, Wondering, If silence after destruction Is worse than the fall.