It Grows

It all started off from pure curiosity

So harmless it seemed

Brimmed with vitality

The conventional thrill that teens seek

Fun, freshness, feathery romance 

A lil' innocuous taste of sacred love -

All that I asked for.

But it grows, so quick, so quietly lethal

What started off as a mere tickle of the heart

Ended up cutting, sinking

Like an unfeeling knife

Through that robust exterior 

It sinks and drowns deep within my beating heart

A small tickle - Grows into such a gaping hole

And that burning passion

Mingles with hot crimson blood

The heart explodes, a spectacular firework show

Exhiliration, thrill, euphoria - all key actors as the show lasted

 But when it all ends, they are nothing but a bleak, gloomy heap.

Is it possible to fix the dusty gray ashes together again?

No, of course.

Those exuberant fireworks can't be created from ashes.

A process, an experience, a voyage - of no turning back.

It grows,

Menace seeps through its innocence

A decadent transformation into a savage,

Eating at my soul, hopes and dreams

It grows, 

and consumes my world,

in ashly gray. 

Day by day, it grows, it grows...

                                                                                   Melrose