To love is to risk
This I know well
But did I truly know
Just what struggles I’d be unable to quell?
A story of old
A warning on the precipice of uncertainty
A danger of which to warn the young
A music note too feared to be strung
How was I to know that the thorns would scratch at my throat
That the carnations dipped in crimson would scatter my floor?
My fingertips are stained
My insides are wounded
My heart has been yanked and shattered
My lungs have become torn and tattered
Blood ridden flowers litter my floor
My sheets have been stained and mangled and more
I struggle to decide
If I bear regret or compliance
My emotions flow with the tide
And my tears paint my face as I cry
If only you knew what I have endured
And yet soon I will rest though I’ve yet to be cured
An enigma of sorts my life has turned out to be
But soon, not only I, but my secrets will be free
Inspired by a character of mine