Golden

your footsteps burnt 
holes in the floor
splintered doors
cracks in the ceiling
like the san andreas fault 
and every safe and vault
was robbed and emptied
the floor shook beneath 
laughing at me
proof that it's me 
and my fault lines that bring
this valley to ruin.
i fled to the coast
to find new weather
more viking than victor.

and most days, it's true
i am drunk on disaster
and i swim with the shattered 
sharks to be wild
and i swing with a sword
that i built as a child
but 
your grace makes me golden
i'm no exception
it's looking for hope
it washes me clean
it hurts and it stings
and runs down my face
to drown out the pain
to settle in the breaks
of my thirsty being