Crash and Burn

You returned to the scene of the crime. You committed murder and ran, only to return to do it again. Was I not already dead enough? Was it psychologically pleasing to return to see the chaos you had created? Perhaps you, being the psychopath that you are, saw your crime as a work of art that needed to be admired. Without empathy or a sense of remorse, you were an arsonist who came back to watch the fire- the fire that you started- burn me to the ground. Just as my ashes had begun to disburse into the wind, you swept them up and rebuilt 'us'. You created a false sense of stability and integrity in the composition of my soul... leading me to believe I had been reconstructed to be stronger and more sturdy than ever. I should have recognized that the foundation was built on muddied water. I should have known that the remnants of what was left of my heart could not support the load that would be hoisted upon it. When I crumbled once again, the dust was too fine to capture. I can not be rebuilt.