The water edge draws me,
It has many times before,
Until I was pulled away.
The ocean stares back at me with deep blue eyes,
And speaks in soft careless whispers.
The waves lap at my ankles, Kissing my feet.
The sensation is overwhelming,
The freezing cold water calming.
The water entwines it's fingers in mine,
Taking me further from where I could stand.
Every touch is gentle.
Every cell of mine begs for more.
So far out,
My mind is stolen.
No coherent thoughts,
Just the cold breeze tenderly caressing my cheeks.
Then I dive in once,
The feeling of nothing addicting.
And I smile as I drown,
Knowing I'm never coming back
in a pool of tears
stained with the crimson of blood
surrounded by shattered glass
and sparkling metal.
a window open
yet no air to breathe
cold but burning
somehow ready to hurt more
fearful of emotion
begging to feel a breath of love
blinded from seeing too much
weak and lonely
desperate for help
finding no words
and capturing painful cries.
that's where I stay.
I knew a man once,
One filled with life.
He spent every day passing flowers to strangers,
Spreading joy through soft spoken words.
All who met him left with a smile,
And all who knew him found fondness in living.
But as the days moved on,
People began to change.
He was told he had to be emotionless to be strong,
and fearless to be flawless.
He was pushed around by the wicked,
Banished into the darkness.
Everything he worked for wasn't worth it anymore,
And he felt his heart hurting every second he lived.
So now he's no where.
And I don't know how to get him back.
I'm so much like the boy who cried wolf.
Just like him,
it all began as a joke.
As I repeated my musings,
Over and over,
My words meant so much less to those who heard them.
All so suddenly,
Those words came crashing down on me.
The letters drew tears that stained my cheeks,
The syllables burnt in my throat.
All the times I asked for the world to kill me,
It was killing me in so many ways.
So now I'm staring into the golden eyes of my very own wolf,
And I realise that,
Like the lies of the boy,
I was the one who hurt myself.
When I was little, I found myself seeing my blood a lot.
I would slip, or fall, or graze my skin.
It was always the times I was having the most fun.
Scars came over time, and each one of them meant that I had happy memories before they occurred.
Now when I see my blood,
I'm no longer okay with it.
I have new scars, and with them,
I can only remember that I used to have happy memories before they occurred.
When I first met you there was a garden growing in my mind,
But it was never beautiful.
Filled with thorns from the dead roses I had been given by someone I used to love,
My thoughts hurt me every day.
My head was bleeding on the inside,
The outside willing to collapse at any moment.
My tears watered the thorns,
Helping them to grow stronger, and sharper.
Then you came along one day,
And said hello.
My heart skipped a beat as I stared into your bright green eyes,
Admiring your sunkissed skin.
Freckles scattered across your nose,
reaching your softly blushed cheeks.
I bit my lip,
Saying hello back.
Now I know you,
That garden is no longer dangerous.
That garden that wanted to be beautiful,
You cleared the thorns,
And replaced them with daisies.
Now every time I close my eyes,
I don't have to fear myself.