Why bother writing?
No one would read it,
Why bother telling?
No one would listen,
But let's say that I'm wrong,
Let's say there are those who would,
Would they understand?

1 heart,
with countless beats,
1 mind,
with countless thoughts,
and a mouth that used to sing lyrics,
in sync with the music of compromise,
silenced by billions of people with a pair of ears each,
that doesn't work at all.

Led you to this barren land in my heart,
You've planted it into a garden of roses,
One day the garden was scarred,
Due to depression overdoses,
When you left to pursue a new garden,
And made my heart a shattered Eden,
The garden started turning blue from green,
While I shed your roses of its petals with my hand,
My heart then bled out your roses for your sin,
Only leaving the petals,scattered on the land,
Throughout time,it wilted to black and brown,
Still there on the ground,
As a reminder not to let myself down,
By letting you in for a second round.

Your blood cascades through your cuts,
I don't dare ask if it hurts,
Because I know you can't tell apart,
Whether it's the cut,or your heart,
Yet I beg,keep those blades away,
For you can rive yourself a million time,a billion way,
But the blood you'll bleed would still be red,
As your blues would only continue to suffocate.

A statue in the middle of the blue space,
With no windows on all four walls,
Downcasted eyes on its pretty face,
Tears streaming down from it like waterfall,
Made out of marbles cold like winter's kiss,
Begging me to keep it warm,
Stuck in this chilling dawn as time freezes,
Yet its diamond encrusted chest might make me succumb,
To its every desire.

I woke up with you next to me,
I'm hugging you tight,
Unsure if I've set you free,
Yet your smile had turned bright,
Your tears halted its stream,
Your eyes starts to beam,
I feel the statue crumbling to dust,
Except the heart that is made of what's 'neath Earth's crust.

I'll carve a better sculpture for you,
Where it'll never turn blue,
And hope will shine bright through its eyes,
The mouth will no longer have to speak comforting lies,
Its hand will grip tight and close,
A bouquet of dark red rose,
That I'll give everyday.

A new year,
To start a new,
Though I fear,
I would still wish for you.

One more year,
of drowning in blue.