A Tangle of Hurt and Happiness - A collection of poetry

The Wound Without Blood

Now it's clear
That I can't let you be near.
Because you cut me deep like a spear.


A javelin shot through my heart.
You tore me down, you tore me apart.
And now I'm left wishing the bleeding would just start.


You cut me where no one could see,
Left marks that no one knows about but me.
An invisible knife, a wound that won't bleed.


Your words, your version of love,
They were the weapons you threw from above.
You were always better, and that truth, I was sick of.


On me, you placed the blame.
You said it was my fault I was hurt that way.
But isn't it because of you that I will never be the same?


I was a kid when it started.
But with my youth, I parted.
I hated all the new lands that, because of you, I charted.


You made me see how cruel the word could be.
My innocence, you took from me.
In its place, you left a wound so very deep.


If I could bleed, I'd have a crimson sea.
Instead, it's my own tears that surround me.
There is nothing left but a broken mess of the girl I used to be.


In the aftermath, I sit by myself.
I look at all your things left on the shelf.
The wound aches as I pack them up, but I'm doing this for my own health.


Yes, it's so very clear now.
For you to be around me, I can no longer allow.
Because of you, my cut yet bloodless heart takes its final bow.