For the longest time I thought
I was cursed with inverse Midas touch,
And everything I laid my hands on
Quite promptly turned to dust.
Passions revealed themselves to be ambitions in disguise,
What looked like friendships first, became echo chambers overnight.
And love turned out to be nothing, but an empty husk of what could have been,
In short, whatever I attached myself to revealed its ugly underbelly to me.
But then it occurred to me today
Perhaps that’s how it was meant to be–
If I can turn gold to dust with my touch
Then goddess of death and destruction I have been.
And somewhere hidden in me sleeps–
The power to turn dust into gold,
Perhaps unknown to me still
But it’s there and that’s good to know!