The single touch that shatters your world

Like delicate glass sent spraying across the floor.

The wrecking ball that crashes into plans long built

Creating a broken pile of rubble and dust.

The glass of water spilt on the blueprints of your life,

Ink slowly bleeding across the paper as you watch, helpless.

The ancient paper that crumbles in your hands at the slightest touch,

Dust cascading across your hand, falling to the floor.

The swirling wind that rips apart the simple beauty of a flower

Petals torn from its stem and carried away on the harsh breeze.

The voice that fills your ears, drowning out any other noise,

A constant drone pounding on your skull, keeping you from sleep

The terror that grips you, consumes your mind

The knowing of the inevitable

That draws out each moment, yet makes them happen too fast.

The deep frustration of starting over, rethinking, replanning, rebuilding,

Scavenging from the shards of glass and pieces of rubble

Trying desperately to put the pieces back together

Only to create something bound to break again.