Ashes

King Midas had the golden touch
He killed through love
My touch, my touch isn't golden
It isn't even green or brown

My touch disintegrates everything
I love and work towards,
My touch makes it fall apart
While my back is turned

As my feet run away
The glance of my head
Tells me the truth
That I'm a killer

Maybe I run because I know
I know there are cracks
So fragile, so inevitable,
Or maybe I cause the cracks

These tiny lines that burst
Into suns and stars
Before breaking into shards
Cutting my love to shreds

From the glance
I can see the blood mingle
Among the ashes that once
Held my love together

Maybe, Maybe I am like King Midas
Killing through love
Love that kills, love that changes
Forms from life to death, to ashes