Hate the feeling of declined poetry
As it lies aimlessly un understood
It still hold words worlds can not
Define

Poetry declined

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 missed it.
This feeling of happiness.
This feeling of strength
And that little burst of joy.
Each time you pop into my head.

But I didn't miss people.
"He's not good enough for you."
"He's into bad stuff"
"I thought you were a rule follower."

I don't miss that, not at all.
I don't miss being criticised,
Every time I try to be happy.
Every time I think of your face.

I miss thinking about the way we first met.
Letting that memory and others flood my mind.
Every single time I'm bored.
Your hair, voice and manner are all adorable.

And I miss thinking someone is adorable.
I miss thinking of someone when I get good news.
I miss talking to someone and letting it get better every day.
I miss talking to someone and almost not going to bed on time.

I missed talking to someone,
To take my mind off the day.
Or even just to make a good day better.
My day is tiring, and you tell me to sleep.

And that's what I miss the most.
Having someone who cares.

But of course,
"You're going to get hurt."
Is the only thing I hear.