I have never written about you                                          
The bond we share,
The chance to be one, which I blew.
You mend us and tried to clear the air,
But I already accepted the fall which I knew.
I am responsible for every tear, I swear.
You were right and always true.
I regret but, to accept this in past, I scare.

i have nothing left to lose
and so much more to gain

i don't think
you were made from stars
i see no stardust attached
to you
nor planets behind your eyes
you hold no traits of your own
only makeshift feelings and
words made of concrete
~so maybe you were made from the rubble

A broken heart can be mended.

Even from the one who broke it.

There is always something to remind...

But the past is the past;

We can't rewind.

Don't flee,

Or live with despair.

Just know someone still cares.

It happened to me,

And here I am.

Alive and well.

Please understand...

(I'm hurt, help)

It hasn't stopped.

But I'm learning to mend myself,

It's the place to start.

Time will only tell,

The matter of my plans.

I'm so glad,

Try to comprehend.

The hands of the clockmaker and his sundial troughout the following days: one shall perceive their scars and healed by one who stays from the first second to last. They may indicate the best for worst, the light for the darkest hour. And by the end of their lives, their red dots will be tangled. No one spits fire nor bleed ice. Bathed in sunshine, washed in rain. Until they discern the contrary of their sides of the world and pelted by their own shadow of their childhood.

Please carry it gently
its been crushed, torn
and fixed
Yet again,
this is one of the
many times I trust
You might drop it too
and somebody else would
mend it their way
But none will be able to
piece it in the pattern
like it was when
first broken

Tears brim your eyes as you bite your lip.
Face scrunched in pain, you hold your pillow.
Rolled onto your side, you pray.

She hurt you.
She really did a number on you.

You grunt an ancient language that only heartache speaks.
You are starting to become fluent again.

We don’t speak her name, but she is etched into your memories.
We don’t speak her presence, but she is engraved into your being.

You pray harder, hoping that maybe it will put your pieces back together.
Your hands are clasped so tightly that your knuckles praise white.

She never cared for you,
She never loved you,
But who am I to know?

You’re alone again,
Sad.
You’re alone again,
Content.
You’re alone again,
Mad.

You don’t have to be alone anymore.
I want to be there for you,
I want to care for you.
I want to mend your aching heart,
When you said that no one ever has before.

I thought to myself,
Maybe it’s time to start.