for so long
i pushed the last morsels of my wounded heart
on my tasteless mouth to chew like a toy.
resignation helped cease the grief
outside the seams of my racked enough brain,
you rummaged through strings and dreams
trying to reach out to me, violently.
of course i kept fretting on the costs of your unwitting love
soon, illness and fatigue crept within me
my heart, careless of iniquities,
had finally embraced its meekly destiny
stored as a dusty shelf memory
but i, tottering on the brink of the grave
stood still, loving you
curiosity was born from isolation,
questioning myself why you keep running
but i cannot scape you;
perhaps the budding silence that exists
between the comely swears of my adoration
and the elated memory of who you once were
keeps my feebly soul attached to mortal expectations,
even when, quite frankly, we both know
the untold truths hidden within this fondness,
but still i hope i'm not as forgettable
as your silence is making me feel.
i hope to forgive myself one day,
when the sea strands collide with the vastness
of the chaotic ocean, to lay calmly,
safely, into the arms of whoever's devotion
they may fall.
for i pray this sadness to cease
but oh, who i am without this pain, my love.
certain i am for i am not yours,
neither am i the only one,
and i do not wish to step away
but neither do i know how to stay.