Tearing Up (My World)

My world
is tearing up.
Being wrenched apart
by this unseen force.
Is it love?
Or is it disaster?
Maybe both.
'Cause after all,
they are the same.
Love is resentful.
Disaster is an easy escape.
Everything ends with darkness,
whether peaceful
or terrifying.
Darkness also begins
everything.
Before there was light,
darkness had to be.
Before there was color,
there had to be an absence
of everything.
My world
is tearing up.
Being wrenched apart
by this unseen force.
Is it love?
Or is it disaster?
Maybe both.