ashes

you made a list
of every storm bearing your name,
then you set it afire.

flames like autumn leaves
carried the tear-stained memories into oblivion
dancing to the unsteady beat of a victory prelude
(or was it a death march?)
until nothing remained of it but ashes.

mere ashes, swept under the rug
-- ironically screaming WELCOME HOME --
and forgotten.

but ashes always show their faces
when you least expect it
...or at least when they are called out to play.

and play they will,
flirting with the remnants of Taylor Hanson and Santa Claus,
who aimlessly float like Bobble Head figurines
inside the murky waters
of the childhood memories you prayed to God would never find you again.

want some candy? they'll taunt.
some flowers? some beauty? some love?

of course you do.
everyone does.

in one moment's time,
one blinding flash of red,
you find yourself willing to forget everything you once learned
to invest in another lottery ticket from hell.
--but it said that "everyone is a winner," didn't it?

the time for questions has passed.
desire has already fondled your trigger
and it is too late.

you're all alone now.

in anger, you bury the ashes,
along with your sanity,
in a shallow and unmarked grave
and wait.

you once believed you were a phoenix,
meant to rise victorious from the ashes of your mistakes.

but you've discovered that only monsters play with fire.