revisiting the red moons and fallen stars of times gone by serves only to underline your pain in red biro.
Past wounds would heal if only you stopped scratching them with dirty nails
your wounds you see are infected,
oozing from them only hatred
let past arguments fade like the scars we acquire on our knees from falling in gravel as children
do not pour into them more tears or time
do not allow your scars to glow brighter than you
you are not your scars, you are not your bitter thoughts
not everything you think needs be uttered in times of anguish,
not everything your partner fails at needs to be noticed
and when something is done and over, there is no sense in digging its decomposing body up allowing its stench to squander your precious life together
When the dead body of a passed argument is buried, leave it in the ground where it belongs so you don't regress but rather progress
Moving forward place one foot in-front of the other cautiously
you may not know what lays ahead
what you do know is love is real
and sometimes it can struggle for breath even in the most deepest of trysts
when it struggles do not retreat, do not allow your self to feel defeated
real love continues to breath even under the dark smog of battle
and after the battle is over, it emerges stronger than before..