though it may sound cliché
you left an imprint on my heart.
similar to a tattoo,
but more of a battle scar.
you threw your words at me like hand grenades
and shot me so many times
i almost forgot how to stand back up.
though it may sound cliché,
here i am once again;
broken and bruised
but still standing.

an aching sensation erupts in the centre of my chest every night
while i lie in the cotton sheets
where you used to sleep
i call it 'love'
and can only be cured
with the touch of your porcelain fingertips
with the flash of your imperfectly perfect smile
and with the eyes that gave me the aching sensation
before i even knew what it was.

the beginning was bright

and nice to think back to

dizzy from joy

non existent butterflies

fluttering about

but it became nauseating

when you're ignored

torn apart by a thousand miles

and not a single thing inbetween

but a broken telephone wire

of a disconnected love

i lay here tonight, thinking of your warm hazel
eyes

how they danced with mine when i looked your
way

and the way your smile held a thousand secrets;

fingers intertwined but our hearts were on the loose

you didn't know how to feel love without fearing your horrid past

i could have kissed your pain away down to the depths of the ocean

but you left,

left me thinking of your warm hazel eyes.

i bottled everything inside

problems,
thoughts,
stress

i eventually broke the bottle,

shards of glass flying everywhere

an explosion of my secretive mind.

the glass had sliced the skin of others and myself

but i've learned

that scrapes and cuts heal

and there's nothing you can do but wait

because

time
        is
            **everything.

they knew all along

how i would smile knowingly

and tangle my thoughts with obvious memories,

visualizing our fingers laced together.

they knew

how i would close my eyes and picture you next to me

masking me from everything and everyone evil.

it's odd,

they knew everything

yet they ripped you away from me

too fast for me to unlace my fingers from yours.

i stared into my empty coffee mug

and instantly thought of you

for it was a clear symbol

of how i felt

the moment you walked away

he threw dirt into the crevices of my mind

making it a horrid, wretched place

but you came along

and planted flowers.

you smiled warmly and laced your fingers in mine

we laughed lightly and i felt as if i were floating

everything was perfectly sculpted together like a fairy tale ending

and when i was at work

i found myself aimlessly scribbling your name over and over in the corners of my notebook

but after

the smiles faded and you eventually let go of my hand

there were no laughs, just hollow stares and a thousand weights pushing me down

everything fell apart like the end of a horror film

and when i was at work

i stared blankly at the paper before me

because the scribbles had eventually tiptoed their way off of the paper and out of my mind.

i once heard someone say

that your light can attract moths

your warmth can attract parasites

maybe it's better to burn out the light

and switch off the heat;

not everyone is who they seem to be.

i wish i could photograph you at 3 am

when your eyes are closed, fluttering as you dream solemnly.

your secretive half smile as you shift
and turn with every movement i make

and your steady breathing, lifting your tired chest in a pattern

up down up down

but no camera could every capture your beauty

in those very moments.

feeling like an endless and gruesome winter,

you eventually left me;

leaving a gaping hole of nothingness
in what i used to call my heart.

i remember you telling me
that i was like a flower;

you pulled me from my roots and placed me in a vase of water,

keeping me safe and alive.

but flowers eventually die

when the careless and unthoughtful rip them from their thoughts.

because there are other things to worry about;

because there are many more flowers to be picked.

i looked at the picture and couldn’t look away

this girl looked happy, although the skies were gray

her eyes were shining and her hair was down

but as i looked closer, it was this that i found:

she didn’t care about the weather, her problems were non existent

i held the photo to my face, i couldn’t help it; i couldn’t resist it

her smile among her face clasped serendipity and shine

and her slender body swayed gently beneath my eyes

i placed the photo down and walked over to the lake

i examined my reflection in the water, to give in what I could take

the girl in the photo was careless and free

the girl in the photo was from the past; it was me.