Remember when:
You decided to
Greet my vulnerability
With animosity
Fueled by actions
I had never taken part in?
I sure as hell do
Tag: hurt
Covered
Broken is not pain
For pain does not
Touch me in pieces
It swallows me
At once and it is
Lacking depth and reason
Humble
You have hurt so many
Yet you stand so tall
As if the pain you have caused
Is a degree too small
Melody
Music led me
To you
Music wrapped
Me up in love
Music would then
Help me
Walk away and
Rise above
Letters To Him #4
The nights don’t hurt me anymore, even when your pain feels so lovely. A gravitational pull towards the inevitable, the moon crushes my chest in an effort to make space for your heart.
One of these nights I will hold myself and all of the versions of me I have ever left behind. I will pull on the hands of those who beg to touch, even if pleasure falls through the cracks in my fist.
Hide & Seek
I tried to show you how
There’s no need to be afraid
To join me in the light
To stop hiding in the shade
However I found out
Why you lurk in all that’s dark
You wouldn’t let me see
The evil swirling in your heart
Counterproductive
I have learned through
Recent emotional adversities
To never trust the words
Of those who demand respect
But cannot hold themselves
To the expectations they
Constantly put upon others
The Disconnect
I fancied the structures
Of bridges I should've burned
That was until I learned
How fun it is to play with fire
Pieces
I loved you in ways
I couldn't explain
Every piece of my soul
Longed for you
But you ripped me apart
While holding my heart
Left me empty
And broken in two
Memory
I have accepted that I am a memory.
And as a memory, I will no longer physically enter your life. Every gentle touch I graced you with will slowly fade into a simple remembrance of lust. Every picturesque moment of me dragging my fingers across your skin, softly kissing your neck, and whispering secrets to you in the isolated presence of our scars. All of this will be but a flash of the past, a dream that will soon become so faint you will be taunted with the idea of a nightmare.
However, be careful, for this is not a photo you can keep. This is not a book that I will allow you to store on a shelf, only to eventually forget about. I will continue to allow this memory to form it’s rightful infection.
I am but a memory, but you will always remember me.
What's Mine Is Yours 