I am a handful, wild and wrought with care,
Like blood and glass we clash in a tangled dance.
At times, I am the dim light and leave despair,
Yet you still hold me fast, not missed chance.
Your heart, a fortress, shields my sharpest edge,
In storms we weather, bound by loves own thread.
Though chaos churns, you stand beside the ledge,
In every crack a tale of us is bred.
No easy task, to tame this restless heart,
To weather storms that rage and never cease.
You see the gold admits the shattered art,
And off solace, comfort, and release.
YOU ARE READING
Words Best Left Unsaid
PoetryLet's be honest. Some words are better left unsaid, these..these are my words that shouldn't have been said. Some of these I know are not perfect, but they are mine. My thoughts and pain I have been though, I will not apologize for speaking my truth...
