To love is to risk
This I know well
But did I truly know
Just what struggles I’d be unable to quell?

A story of old
A warning on the precipice of uncertainty
A danger of which to warn the young
A music note too feared to be strung

How was I to know that the thorns would scratch at my throat
That the carnations dipped in crimson would scatter my floor?

My fingertips are stained
My insides are wounded
My heart has been yanked and shattered
My lungs have become torn and tattered

Blood ridden flowers litter my floor
My sheets have been stained and mangled and more

I struggle to decide
If I bear regret or compliance
My emotions flow with the tide
And my tears paint my face as I cry

If only you knew what I have endured
And yet soon I will rest though I’ve yet to be cured

An enigma of sorts my life has turned out to be
But soon, not only I, but my secrets will be free

Let us abandon the wounds we inflicted in our distance and embrace the quiet joy that once united us. Forget the anguish, and remember the love that first sparked and sustained us.

Is poetry like rubbing salt on already open wounds,
or is it what heals them?

Is it the cure to the poison present in our soul,
or is it, instead, the bane of what we feel?

what if in lieu,

poetry is what keeps mankind alive
through words once unsaid and unwritten.

It carries on our prophecy
and alleviates the vague suffering
present in the deep pit of our insufferable, mortal minds.

Poetry,
is the way our soul inevitably bleeds.

A protector,
a brother once but now it’s me.
He wanted not
to have to care for the boy.
Because of his own hidden hurt.
His own disconnect
from his little boy.

The hurting part wants Dad.
Is heartbroken.
Afraid for himself,
of himself,
and all alone.
Just wants
to be held.
Wants to feel safe.
Loved through the pain.
Seen.
Acknowledged.
Recognized.

They say to not
open old wounds

When the heart
is longing for
something more

What else do you
have left to lose?

The world is spinning
slower when your world
comes to a halt.

But I want you to know
it's not your fault.

Emotions are a roller-coaster:

The ups and downs,
looping around until
you've reached your stop.

There's no set destination,
and you've got nothing
but your imagination

Leading you places,
you never thought
you'd go.

Just take it slow,
and everything will
fall in place.

It's not a race,
just take it
at your own pace.

So, when they say to not
open old wounds,

And the heart
longs for something
more,

Don't be afraid to
open new doors.

You don't have to rub salt in my wounds
Say it to my face
Stand my feet on the ground
Leave my place without a trace

Move on, forget them
Condemn them, or be solemn
For they only gave me misery
Instead of love and mercy

I came back but ran away afterwards
Feeling scared, like the deer in the headlights
I see flashing signs, but it was what I thought it was
But isn't she lovely
Isn't she pretty

What does a pretty girl like you feel
Oh behind that pretty smile, hides the darkest secrets I was afraid to tell
Oh no one wants to know
But I'm too intrigued to show
Hey, I know, I thought it will only take me a while
I felt like I'm dying inside

Mask my pain, only anger remains
Leave thy past behind, they've been blind
But too foolish to mind
Mind games play thy minds
One wants to turn a blind eye, and a numb death
Makes me bleed, make them repent
Hollows are deadly, poison ivy