Holding broken pieces of past in the palms of my outstretched hands Reasons evade me I sit here struggling to understand The edges dig deep Causing tender skin to seep scarlet drops Taking Tylenol to pummel pain until it finally stops I'm ready to give up life and dive headfirst into my grave It is difficult for me but I must admit my soul is far too gone to save The devil stole it from my bones and doesn't plan on giving it back Without it polished surface falters and slowly begins to crack
A rose's vine is cold as it twists, wraps around your wrists. It's yours; it's a lie— the blossom of love. It's crushed by your fists. The thorns pierce you through, to your deepest core— to the bones. It cuts, burns. This love is a gift you never asked for.