Within me I have seen war,
So I thought I was a battlefield.
I have watched my mind twist with the fury of vengeance,
The angel and demon tearing me limb to limb.
I have deprived myself of love,
Raging famine within hollow bones.
I thought all I was ever capable was of destruction;
Annihilation on a molecular level.
But when the kisses of Spring soothed my wounds,
And the war had died down with only scars left to tell the story,
I heard a voice within whisper, "You were never the battlefield. You are the revolution."
YOU ARE READING
Sunshine, Autumn Witches & Other Lies
PoetryA collection of poems that have whatsoever no connection to what I'm feeling but nevertheless has been written. You know, because if I have to be sad might as well make it aesthetic.
