As Dust Settles

I wonder

Had I gone back to the start

Back to the birth of my first words

Back to the first poem-

An ultrasound.

Had I not stamped out the fire,

Where would I be now?

Where would my heart, my weary heart be?

My duty is to myself, and yet,

I wanted to wrap myself up in you.

All dreams fade, painfully,

Eventually.