The beauty of a word

 These are cells dividing
Two people going their separate ways.
Atoms exploding, this is--
This will be--

Welcome to your ruination--
This is how it starts--

The lights will flicker on and off, 
Flowers will spider their way up the cracks of the walls
And water will form staircases for you to walk up.
It will be a beautiful ruination, yes.
But it will be yours.

Watch as mirrors shatter into strands and string across the limitless ceiling,
As fish grow wings and are no longer confined to their silvery skins.
You will no longer be blood and dust and bone, but--
 A paper mache creature made of looking glass that
Catches the sky in a million hands, a creature of copper wire shattered.
White paint splashed over the floor, whitewash, a new start.
This ruination, it will be glorious, it’s true. You will love it and wish it over and again--
But this ruination, 
It will be yours.

Your ruination will be a moment

Every single moment combined into one, combined into this now
It will be light and dark and twilight and sunrise all at once
Puzzle pieces and note cards will be thrown, caught in a blanket made
Of this nation's flag.
Wine glasses filled with peach juice, rimmed with salted orange slices
Will be left half empty, half full
And the sugar snow that lands on your eyelashes
Will never melt. 

This ruination will be brilliant.
It will be marvelous
And triumphant
And magnificent.
This ruination will be gratifying and dazzling and illustrious, it absolutely will.
You will never forget it, you will reminisce and fall over and over into its grasp. 
But this ruination
Because this ruination
It will be yours.