She was the only plaster that
I needed to cover wounds, because
no one saw the cuts deepening beneath.
scratching at my tears, crying underneath.
But I never knew that she was the one
silently unstitching my wounds. She'd begun
long before I was cut, but her words kept
me from realizing tears weren't for me id wept.
She never needed a reason to cut me deep inside.
I was the doll, stuffing pulled from within denied
the respect of my pride. but still I thought her my
plaster healing this cut, while reality cut deeper, why?
Why would she want to hurt what was our love,
why could one cut at that that showing her truelove.
A plaster only hides pain, covering up intentions
of a misguided trust. I became my own intervention.
Life since our love had blossomed had been rough,
our petals were razor wire memories of those tough
times we had seen before. But I thought our time
had coated those petals, washing away past grime.
She never needed a reason to cut me deep inside.
I was the doll, stuffing pulled from within denied
the respect of my pride. but still I thought her my
plaster healing this cut, while reality cut deeper, why?
I now know that some cuts weren't mine, sharing
her past with me. But instead of healing,cutting, wearing
down what was within me. I needed to feel whole be
myself within no cuts seen. I loved her, but I was unfree.
