They say,
Time heals all wounds,
but even my deepest paper cuts
would not begin to bleed
and so the pain would wear on
and the scab would never form
and I was never able to expel the venom
buried deep inside.

You cannot always feel the bruises,
but sometimes I push on them to feel the pain.

You cannot always see the bruises,
but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

I dug the knife into my skin,
then asked you to pull it out
and you did not do it the way I hoped.

You did not make a clean cut,
but twisted it, ever so slightly,
and the **** was bigger than before.

I do not blame you for my injury,
and with all that time you spent in hospitals,
I guess I thought you would be better at healing.

I cannot speak to the future,
and I wish not to think of my dreams.
I had plans for the two of us
that your arms could not wrap around
and God, I wish they were holding me.

Perhaps the tears need to fall
to replace the blood I never lost,
and perhaps the pain that hurts the most
are the hopes I keep inside.