We all know things-including some we'd like to forget-,
Knowledge is a knife,
The sharp blade is the cutting truth,
The thing is you don't know which side you'll be handed,
Like how it was when I found out he didn't love me,
But my best friend.
It was something,
Somehow,
I always knew but wasn't ready to accept,
Today in (love-)sickness, I swallowed the medicine truth when I was forced to repeat the news to another,
And that's when I knew,
He had handed me the blade of truth and watched my blood cry for the tears my eyes couldn't,
He tricked me into obtaining knowledge I didn't wish to ever know.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"I know that sometimes for people, I feel like too much; But let me kiss away the phantom pain that the scars remind you of, Let me kiss the burns on your hands, From when you touched the burning fire within my soul. Let me show you that yes, I am...
