The only apology I own for the aftermath is to me. I am sorry for pain I have caused this body, for the cuts and bruises.
Ensuring that the skin you touched will not grace my flesh anymore because it remembered how it felt to have your hands on my skin and I wanted to erase the marks so I gave it new ones.
I am sorry for the hurt I caused my heart as if there’s an ice cube freezing it from inside creating a barrier for the ones who came next. I had to destroy it, you resided here once.
I am sorry for numbing my body to all feelings- positive and negative, for the ache as if I have swallowed acid rotting away my insides,
But the rotting walls and my icicle heart are reminded of you when they hear your name in the crowd.
It is funny how a name could mean so many things, different things to different people. Sometimes they whisper your name to the empty bed other times while pointing at the open door.
This is how you came but you won’t come anymore so I slam it shut.
Now I can lick my wounds in peace. Heal my skin, bones, heart, my body.
Break them again if the need be so they settle correctly.
To learn to live not by forgetting but by accepting and moving on.
I am sorry for hurting the only home that is truly mine.
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The Blooms Of My Garden
Poetry'The Blooms Of My Garden' is divided into 6 parts. Every part deals with one theme and various emotions that are associated with it and how the poet deals with it. 1. Love 2. Lust 3. Heartbreak and Closure 4. Self-doubt and self-love, healing and b...
