Catastrophe

I give you five minutes until you self-destruct.
You are a bomb that has been waiting
To go off
Since the day you first opened your eyes
Into this beautiful big bang
That created this place that we
Call earth.
Your clock started ticking.

You are now on minute four
And you have driven me
Through landmines
And potholes
With no trenches to cover my back.

You believe that you are a sergeant
Fighting this cold war alone
When you have always had
Someone to keep you from making
The rookie mistakes that always occur
When you get too excited.

You are destruction in a glass bottle.
A tornado to be specific.
You start off as a small wind
Spout that grows into
Catastrophic atrocities

You pick up worry and obsessions,
Unhappiness and low self-esteem,
Questions with no logical answers
And dreams that you are too afraid
To answer.

And usually I’ve been there
To take the ride.
But now, you have picked me up
With everything else.
And I end up being just another
Second on your clock that’s about to go off.

You are now on minute five.