Dust is filling up my lungs;

Piling, suffocating,

Specks of stress hung

By a thread, a mess

In my head.

Dust is climbing up my spine;

Chilling, and empty thrill

In my back, it kills

It will, sparks stalking

Up and up, to a body

It doesn’t belong in.

Dust is clogging up my throat

Stopping the air, trying

To enter my system,

Coughing, dry in the space

Just out of reach of my chest.

Dust is a shame

Dust is a sob, dust

Is speaking a sorry name

Left to rust.

Dust is suffocating me,

Killing me slowly.

But I am not the only one drowning,

As the screaming ash clouds surround me,

I notice the others around me.

They’re coughing too.

Dust is filling my lungs.

Yes, dust is climbing my spine.

Yes, dust is clogging my throat.

But if I keep going, keep coughing,

Keep throwing my caution to the wind.

The dust will follow and

Dissipate into oblivion.