You cradled me up like the moonlight and whispered me starlight and when I was broken and wanted to tear apart my skin like the frog splayed out in Biology, you gave me the sun.
But I am walking a tightrope to the edge of my coffin and with every step I take, I become suspended in the air like my very own scalpel taking a swing at every ounce of exposed and fetal skin.
Even you, almighty deity whose love burns like the morning dew, you and your beauteous presence cannot save these shaking hands from reaching the gas.
And like the sprawled out winter's breeze, my lungs have filled with a cold and distant air, suppressing and caressing the constant of repressed demonical laughter.
The evening stars shine brightly upon my dismembered limbs and I realize beneath the clashing waves that for the first time, in shutting out the beams of light, my shadow looms brightly over the heaviness of my maleficent frame.
And I was cradled, whispered to, and given, but I'm exposed and my insides are splayed out, broken and untamed, and I've become what I've so much hated: an unfinished chapter in a sea of ink.
YOU ARE READING
The Truth Embarks a New Beginning
PoetryWhen you feel like there's no way out, life laughs and toys with your pain. But, when pain is built on top of pain, the doors of mockery close, and you can walk out into the world, with a newfound understanding and acceptance of what shit you have o...
