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.

I hope you know your words are like knives.
Cutting through my flesh, sticking out my back.
Some of them may leave scars and never mend,
but you should know that I can't feel the stabs.
They're in places others have already been before,
so why don't you take them out?

And the sun sat.... when it did it felt like my eyes were closed. Felt like my back had been turned or I was in a dark room with no windows. Heart beating outta my chest. My hands could flow a river. Body tense. Legs weak. But I still remember. The day before we were together. And the day before that too. Where did it all go wrong? I wish It hadn’t cause now I have to sleep without you. I could comfort myself if I wanted to but it just wouldn’t be the same and you don’t even understand the pain that comes from hearing your name. Time heals all but I really just wanna make it stop cause it just keeps going and I’m stuck with all the things that come with not. Not having you here. Not seeing you. Not being able to smell your breath in the morning time. I really got use to all those things and now i have to relearn not having you around. But is it the same for you? I miss you so **** much.  This hurt that I feel is so unreal. Maybe it’s a dream please wake me up. No phone call no text you ain’t even trying to come back this way and even though I’m hurt I’d still take you back with open arms any day...... guess I’m just stuck daydreamin y’all....

I am tired of
the constant cycle of
aching and faking,
hurting and feeling,
breaking and healing,
fixing and mending,
It's like a never ending cycle,
and I am just tired.

I feel listless again.
I am left without slumber,
My mind beginning to bend.
Am i trapped in this cycle?
Will it ever end?
I wonder, if I am destined,
To always walk this now beaten path?
As I'm sure it's becoming more treacherous,
As each grey day comes to pass.