Those scars.
Those cuts on your wrist.
They show the pain you've felt.
They tell stories of the past.
Of a time not so long ago.
Times of terror and struggle.
Times of great pain.
But for every dark side there is a light.
Those stories of sorrow are rewritten.
With one single kiss of my lips.
For each kiss I rewrite those stories.
The ones of us.
Tales of beauty and passion.
Tales of love and peace.
I'll always be there sitting and cutting my hands on the broken glass of her heart that shatters when she runs that razor on her wrist.
But thats okay.
Because in the end that heart will have my name written across it.
Because Im the one who is there to pick up the pieces.
This is not a poem of sorrow.
Not pain.
Not sadness.
But a poem of promise and love.
A poem to make the pain go away.
Darling I promise, I swear.
Darling, you'll be okay.