I am a ticking time bomb ready to explode with a single tap
I am a flightless bird jumping off of a mountain because I do have faith that I can fly.. but I can't.
I am sinking to a bottomless pit of nothing, with demons latching onto my ankles so tight they bleed.

what is so ironic about feeling like you've hit rock bottom is.. the pain feels nice when you've landed.
at least for a poet, because now I can write about the epitome of dead flowers that have rested in my heart and the melancholy that rest in the broken cracks of my wounded soul.

the fascinating thing about you though.. you were beautiful like one of the most famous paintings sitting in an art gallery waiting to be discovered by the world. it is simply known for it's artistry and significance.
but even paintings have secrets that lie beyond it with pain that that is painted over with dynamic and graceful brush strokes that shelter it, leaving it to be perceived as beautiful.

and it is.. only destructively, beautiful.

you got a free ticket into my heart that was broken before you even touched it.
it has been mutilated by someone who maybe wasn't identified as a ****** but I gave him that title the day he decided his needs were more important than mine.
it has been destroyed by multiple men, whom I gave my love to but didn't receive any in return.

and the sad thing is.. before these men left scars on my heart and left me feeling worthless I felt like a breath taking vision of a garden of flowers.
until they each hand plucked all of them and left me with dead roots, broken petals and tears that could fill a river stream.
after, I waited for someone to come and save me, like a kitten on a ledge or like a broken heart. yearning to be glued back together.

sadly, not everyone get's a fairy-tale ending.
I am now, a garden of dead roots, with no soil to be given and seeds to be planted for growth.

this is my hopeless, incurable truth.