I ran from the woman I couldn’t yet see
Her heart too wild, her soul too free
Lost in the ache of everyone else's touch
Fearing the depth of feeling too much.

So I stop running, though fear grips my hand
And face the mirror I can’t yet understand
Endless reparations made a mosaic of fire
A masterpiece born of struggle and desire.

But love waits softly, in shadows I chase
A quiet whisper, a tender embrace
In broken shards I start to believe
The woman I’m running from wants me to breathe.

One was left reeling
The other went on with  life

Two people words exchanged
On a Thursday at 2:00 pm
Feelings emotions intentions coming to light
One’s truth blindsiding the other’s truth
4 months of you and me
Trickled down to a 20 minute text exchange
That’s what I was worth to you.

Her reply unshaken disappointment
His reply an aloof “don’t be stranger … let’s be friends”
Silent tears mourning the idea of what could have been - she refused to let him see her break .
Him going about life - realizing he might not really want a clean break.

Me saying take care - walking away
You saying add me on social media - trying to keep me in your life

Words said can’t be unsaid
This is how the story of us ends.

There are broken things
               I can never fix—
                         even though
                                I’m older—
      no matter
           how much I know,
my hands are still wounded green
                      with Spring’s earth—

from even before I knew
          the pain of destruction—or
the chaos of a single lie
             (before I knew it was a lie)

when I was crawling on sunset
                  in the tall grass
                       of our backyard,
          silently following
                       my brothers
                           (newly jaded)
                 as they joked in spite
       about our mother’s volatile shouts
from our sky blue house
            of loose and spurring rage.

Start by wearing your heart on your sleeve.
You don't know any better yet,
up to this point the world has been good to you.
When your heart starts catching
on door knobs
and being battered against the black top,
you carefully tuck the gently scratched ***** in your pocket.

In your pocket,
out of sight
it's a little harder for the bruises to land.
Over time
the blood stain of time spent hidden
seeps through.
When the first blow lands
it knocks the wind from you.
You still don't lock your heart up.
You just move it back into your chest.

You don't sew yourself shut,
cracked ribs spread wide,
a tourniquet wrapped around one chamber,
the abused ***** still trying to beat
it's an erratic rhythm,
but it's a pulse.
It's not even shocking,
when daggers come from the front
or behind
and twist into the gnarled flesh.

Arterial spray,
broken pieces you've given away,
cover the walls.
Bones curl around
to try to protect you,
but you've never been able
to close yourself off completely.
The worst part is,
you sort of enjoy the pain.
For a moment,
the heart remembers
before the first bruises marred the skin,
before you built a cage to exist within.

Have a care,
they said
if the wind changes you’ll stay like that

and I think I missed the breeze
that fixed me in place
in among the hurricane days,

but the aches and pains
don’t shift no more,
just there
to be muted
by whatever suits
and ties

The pain still linger
My feelings trapped
Can’t love any longer
Because my heart bled

Blood of my feelings
Feelings that brought trust
Trust of the past love
Love that never existed

We still listen to the same bands
Walk the same streets
And think about the same boys that broke our hearts
When the only thing that mattered was the next class we had
Or who kissed who by the bike sheds

When 3pm was the end of the day
And we lived for every mistake we made
Because it didn't matter that we hated this town
And it didn't matter who we let down
We'd become something bigger than
Just names etched into a desk
And all of the tears shed

We'd love and learn
And forget

The only thing is  
After a decade and some change
After miles away
And time for it all to fade

It's still all the same