Has it really been this long?
Being a child that never cared
falling asleep to that old song,
the lullaby my mother shared.
Have these four years really passed?
Since I felt that aching rise
around my chest, hoping it lasts
by telling all those little lies.
Has it really been four months?
I saw it happen, all over then
letting the bullet slightly pass,
right through my heart, to softly rend.
Has it really been four weeks?
Since the wound had opened up
again, with the slightest leaks
of light, in my darkened mind.
And yet... I find it quite disturbing,
the fact, that I've been holding up
from suffering in brighter dark,
I guess it's time.
That makes you strong...