Welcome,
To the dust storm that is me,
Which blinds
Any! who dare try and see.

Particles of selfish pride,
Blind my unsettling eyes,
Creating visions of past lies.
I wish and blink and rub them out—
But on my hands
Lie selfish specks of sand,
Created from self doubt.

Layers of lust,
       Atop
Layers of trust,
Deposit
In my lungs.
And when I start to speak,
Blame—flies!
Off my tongue.

—But please,
Weather this storm with me?
'Cause I promise-—No!
I swear,
When all the dust settles,
Your heart will find me, spark-a-ling,
Somewhere.