I feel ashamed
That the heart that I nurtured
Is now in its stunted form of blossoming
Ever so eternal
My hands
reach out
For the arteries and the bleeding veins
Prying, Prodding with force.
I am crippled, unraveled
My sexuality, bleeding.
But so long as I smile as I walk
and nobody notices me bleeding
None shall stop
Or mutter a word.
To muster enough care for my heart to nurture again
For life, for love, for sensuality.
And for days to come.
But only when, someone shall stop.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 5:14 AM UTC
I feel ashamed
That the heart that I nurtured
Is now in its stunted form of blossoming
Ever so eternal
My hands
reach out
For the arteries and the bleeding veins
Prying, Prodding with force.
I am crippled, unraveled
My sexuality, bleeding.
But so long as I smile as I walk
and nobody notices me bleeding
None shall stop
Or mutter a word.
To muster enough care for my heart to nurture again
For life, for love, for sensuality.
And for days to come.
But only when, someone shall stop.