Your heart, seemingly broken yet so desperate to be loved
I can feel you
Your goodbyes disguised as pleas for people to stay
I can hear you
You paint yourself blue yet crave for someone to brush you a different hue
I can see you
You believe you smell of hopelessness but your stench gives off desire
I can smell you
Your tongue tastes bitter in your mouth as you speak of love
But I can taste you
I can truly taste you
I was left open
to bleed out.
Hurt and in pain,
pained and in hurt.
Vulnerable to anything around me,
you made your way in.
You infected me,
and it felt like love.
You had gentle hands
and an even gentler soul.
I couldn’t see the knife you hid.
I began to heal.
My cut began to close,
And everything around me
finally felt okay again.
And the moment I got comfortable
You took the hands that once held me close to your heart,
wrapped them around your knife,
and you killed me.
You killed me.
There I was.
Naked, and bare thought.
In the middle of the ocean.
I had gotten far enough to not see anyone,
But god and his creation.
Head and body against the waves,
I was at peace.
I was in a state of oblivion.
I rested in the water and let it take me,
As it pleased.
My ears heard nothing.
And my eyes slowly closed,
as black became a comfort.
I was where I wanted to be.
In a place where I couldn’t hear love.
I felt so at home,
That I wished for the sea to take me
Into it’s beautiful arms.
And never return me to love again.
It was the kind of love you could never forget
And the heartbreak you wish you could
You told me that you loved me
My ears have never heard a sweeter lie
I drove away with the heaviest heart.
My one foot on the gas while my mind begged me not to hit my breaks.
My mind told me to go as fast as I could and never go back.
Get far, far enough where he can’t reach you.
But my heart, my heart wanted me to stop.
My heart screamed for me to take an exit and turn around.
I couldn’t do it.
Too many times I have listened to my heart and where did it get me?
It got me somewhere between needing to get away from him but never wanting to get too far.
I knew that if I reached home I would never return.
That day I made it the longest ride home.
My eyes shut and don’t feel any heaviness, not for a second. Instead they feel as light as can be, reaching a heaven with clouds and everything soft, knowing that you soon will appear. You are heaven, in my eyes, undoubtedly my haven. I am ecstatic. Within milliseconds, there you are, and I see everything that I’ve been missing. Your eyes are in mine, as passionate as the ocean slamming against the shore, they scream of a blue so beautiful that I get lost. In your eyes I see longing, both of ours, as mine reflects in yours. And I can’t help but to imagine your arms locked around my waist as you pull me closer to the heart that is mine. Your hands travel down through skin smooth as silk and you find the ocean that we both love to bask in. We stay for what seems like hours, involved in a love as similar as the sea, endless. Here we are one, moving through a single body and mind. Then, a moment later, my eyes betray me. Everything goes black. They slowly open and I realize the harsh reality. There is no you. There is no us. Just a reality that awaits and awaits for the next chance to get to you, the only way that I can. A reality that misses your warmth and our fire. A fire so strong that I understand eventually it needed to be put out. But one that I know to spark again. So whenever I feel my eyes begin to shut and feel relieved, I am always ready, willing, and waiting for us and our chance to finally be together.
As you’ll lie on my chest, I’ll pray that you do not hear my cries. And as you’ll feel my heartbeat I’ll hope that you do not feel my pain. I’ll hope that my past remains an unfamiliar face, a person you would never had to have known. I will not wish for you, my very own blood, the same hand that I was dealt. I can not and will not will you the same fortune as I.
Though our roots run deep, I am happy to say that they will be torched. They will be cut and broken, and destroyed. I cannot allow you, my dear, to be apart of these roots. For you, I will plant a new tree. With beautiful, healthy, everlasting roots. After me, you will water this tree. And ensure that these roots remain healthy, a thing the ones before me never did.
But me, I will never forget the roots I will destroy. They serve a purpose way too meaningful. Clarity. Though they were detrimental, they had a beautiful quality in them, a particularly sinister beauty. Because the things that are ugly to the eye still hold a type of beauty in them, that is the way of nature. The beauty is the knowing, the newfound understanding. The beauty is the calm after the storm. I am the calm after the storm. The many storms that corrupted my tree. But what is meant to happen after a storm? Rebuilding.
So, for you and yours, I will rebuild. For the beautiful sake of you, I will ensure that your new tree will be better. Your tree will have a strong foundation so that it can withstand the storms, never compromising its roots. Never a need to rebuild. And you, and your line, will be nothing of mine. You will be rebuilt, anew, and so strong. The ones strong enough to break the chain.
Shouldn’t you love the hand that feeds you, a little more? Love the love that is unconditionally provided to you? Love your love for the life that spewed from yours to hers? Shouldn’t you cherish something so giving? And allow yourself to bask in all its glory? Recognize something when it is given to you for what it is, pure. And take care of it. Let it want to be the gift that keeps giving. That’s what love can be when you create a good home for it. Instead you have made it homeless. There is no room for this love. You do not want it. You have swatted away the very hand that tries to feed you. You have provided this unconditional love with nothing but a love so conditional that it is unsure. Doubtful. You have forgotten about the life that was given for you, so willingly, like it never happened. The worst part is you effortlessly forget. You do not cherish this gift, a gift that not many of us get to receive. Instead you devour only what you decide you need, and fuck the rest. Take it for granted. You leave this love on call. Only to be important when you deem it. You do not bask in its glory because your attention is on your own. You are your own GOD. You worship your own soul. So you don’t appreciate love, real love. No. If you did, there wouldn’t be a cause for any of this. There wouldn’t be tears for dinner and lies for dessert. There wouldn’t be a love looking for a home, running for shelter. There would be heaven, for you. But you choose to remain in a place you don’t even realize is a hell. Because the gift that could’ve kept given is no longer in a state to provide to you. Life without true love is hell. But you will soon realize where you are and what you have lost. And the love, you so willingly let slip from your grasp, will have found a new home. A better home. A sure and unconditional home. And this love, that you lost, is such a pure one. So pure that it won’t carry hate, or vengeance. But only a hope, that you will one day open yourself up to receive the next love that comes your way.