she has scars
like stars

too many to count
but enough to tell stories of the past

I was transfixed by
That wandering eye, a spec
In a cup of milk

A silent sound
Travels past the edge of the universe
And I’m here
Wondering where you are

I’ve look from left to right
And to right to left
Hoping for your presence to step in
And save me from my own mess

I act like a childish man
Wishing for the world to fix
My every flaw and defect

But the world doesn’t work that way
And the sooner I realize that
Then my task will be set

The progress I one day want to see
Will depend on the work I put in

Ask of the dagger I hurled at the beast across the room
Its wicked howl vibrating about my being
as it buried its fangs in its own dull heart
Ask of the white stained carcass wrapped in charcoal blood

I could talk of the glorious cliff and the reluctant child
seduced by the oblivion of the world below
But that’s hardly the tragedy I wish
to engrave on the stone made soley for my love's corpse

What of the silent repression of the inevitable sea;
its claws in your throat, its chains pulling you under
The only thing to come out: mere remnants of bubbles
embodying the muffled screams of the dead

I could talk of a caged bird
fantasising the sky being pure definition of freedom
What of its heartless darks that see and unsee the starving stars
What of the sadist winds separating
sons from mothers from daughters from fathers;
hearing and unhearing their pleas

Ask of the endless nights of my quiet talks with the moon
Its wicked words reeking with hope,
blooming and wilting around the night
Ask of the hollow flaw left untouched in the middle of the sky
Light extends her arms and creeps in,
she asks for help but we’re all asleep

I could talk of sleepless nights and lazy days—
vivid afternoons curling up way too fast in the dusk—
but that’s hardly a tragedy you’d like to hear
Ask of the dagger I hurled across the void
hoping to rip open another hole in the sky
so the moon would not be lonely when I finally went to sleep
but it never was lonely, no thanks to my blade

What of the silver blade
He shot for the sky but but fell in love with the moon
kissing open her jagged lips- and banishing away
moonlight bleeds out the scarred crescent
Ask for I'll tell you the stories composed with finest of runes

Like when the girl befriended the beast
not for its arousing shine that felt like velvet on the cobblestone dark
but the scars that she, so lovingly, drew on its body
matching every curve - every bruise - to her own
so painful yet hardly at all, so visible yet not in the least
It was the most beautiful tragedy I had ever seen

My heart has always been in fragile pieces,
And you came in holding it gently.
It wasn’t what you expected,
And you walked out letting it crumble.

I tore your heart out,
And replaced it with mine.
Im sorry it isn't perfect,
And in sorry it’s damaged.

You gave me a chance to hope,
And I gave you my trust.
I hoped for you to hang on tight,
And together we can make it whole for you.

Before that can happen,
You have to accept its flaws.
You can’t resolve a problem,
Without seeing a issue first.