To leave this small town, I would dare,
If courage found its way to me.
A wasteland's blue and brown despair,
Cogs turning, struts of industry.

For years I toiled, for years I ran,
The pace relentless, never slowed.
Yet once again, here I began,
Back at the end of the road.

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

I cannot bring myself to overcome
The smiling creature of doubt
Sitting pleasurably in my mind—
His hands rest on his lap,
Teeth on full display as
He watches the darkness
Overcome my expression,
Falter my typing hands,
And end the ambition
I arduously work toward.

I will leave your love here
in the graveyard of regret
because I cannot take it with me
the burden
the memory
the joy
the pain
the  love
the almost
the lovely
too heavy
for my already
heartbroken
weakened heart.