Poetry

The Unconnected Heart.

The blood spills as though as it's ink soaking the page.
Unreadable; but isn't that the point?
Edges became broken and sometimes you learn to live with that feeling.
Why such a ill thought?
Can't we just embrace change?
That I sacrificed the best parts of me to a different kind of drug and I call that bitch love and she fucks me over everytime.
That I cry for a different life where I was given a chance.
A constant betrayal in every aspect of life I started ripping the seams of feelings from my heart.
That's where people get it mixed, it started at the beginning.
Nobody steers this soul of mine, I always thought I should trust my heart.
I don't trust that part no more, she likes risks and love and laughter and quickly as you get it you always watch it walk straight out the door.
I call it solitaire.
She needs freedom so I let her out.
Only when safe I say but it hasn't been safe since that day and that day is just a normal day.
Reality stares into broken children everyday.
Different kinds of pain with a lot to say.
I lose that will for my story lies within a book next to a gun.
There was always a choice.
I couldn't stay though.
There was nothing there for me except a reason to mourn.
Sat next to my grave and said this is the day we change your heart strings.
She aches but suffering will not be the last thing she remembers.
I instantly cried when it hit me, pain and happiness my body needed a break.
She sits on her knees and she speaks for the first time in a long time.
"I remember the first time, I remember the last time."
"You didn't deserve a second of it."
Couldn't be anymore correct, I haven't felt my heart crack a smile in days it barely remembers those days.
But it's staring me right in the face.
My heart was no longer lost.
It just needed to be brought back from all the rainy days.