Fresh Wound.

A fresh cut wounds worst enemy is salt. The sting and the burn. The tears you feel prick so gentle at the back of your eyes but you will yourself not to cry at the very ordasty of your skin splitting and this mineral as it attacks the delicate insides. And you run for the water to wash it clean, and watch as the blood spill from you, mesmerised by the red liqiud that pumps away inside you. The elixir of life. 

And you wonder, how many names are caught up in that blood, how much salt from sweat has made its way through you skin to be a part of you. And you can remember hearing that every seven years every cell in your body is anew and you still have no idea if its true but you clung to it. 

A life boat in the sea of your mistakes because it ment that one day he would be gone from your blood and the other one too. And your ghost would have faded from all those you left battered and bruised. Every heart that carries a scar because of yours. All the damage you cant undo, the spirts deplited. Because seven years is long enough that even if it wasn’t true you would maybe, possibly be free of memories and the feelings of inadequacy. 

Forest Green.

And I can tell you the excat colour of the lipstick I wore the day you came to visit. 

It was clear and peppermint pushing for lush lips you would not be able to resist and be over come by the urge to kiss and I used white eyeliner to make my eyes wider to seem brighter so I could pretend to match the intelligence my mind painted you with. 

And I can remember the smell of the air. All burnt wood and fire and smoke. How it clung to everything and your forset green hat stood out a mile amoung the gry dreary portrait of a world behind you. How when you smiled your front teeth weren’t perfect and your nose hooked to one side but to me, you were perfection personified like all my Christmases came at once and you were really real and really mine and my mind ran a million miles into plans and maybes and hopes and could be’s but no. 

It that moment I didn’t know and I brought you upstairs to a house that was too hot but it was too hot because outside was too cold and I wasn’t exactly sure which best represented my soul but you were there and you were real and I I could touch you and taste you and smell the burnt secent off outside off of you. And I did. And I didn’t shower for days, took forever to wash those sheets.

Your collar bone left stiff from a break that I didn’t know about then. I counted your freckles giving up when I got to ten because the beauty in front of me didn’t need logic or reason or numbers. It was mine. At least for a little while.

And you’re skin was beautiful, all pink tones and muscles under skin that was in places too thin. A story book of scars and pictures upon a canvas in that very moment I came to know and to love. Taking liberties in lies and not blinking an eye in the face of the blinding sun that was this boy,No man,No boy. Becuse he was never fully grown to match his outside. 

All mesermising blue eyes and brown unrurly hair, a chuckle that bounced off walls and screamed out that you didn’t care if the moon heard you because you would give her something to smile about too.

And you pulled me against you, goosebumps running over your skin both our bodies whispering promises off “I’ll never forget” but we broke those too. Scars From injuried feet from those egg shells that grew stronger and sharper and bigger and harder and meaner. Until I could no longer walk on them and sat to the side to tend my bleeding feet and you walked through with your brown beaten up old shoes cause your pride was always worth more.

More than me, more than her, more than a million pretty faces you had smile for a night. And you were you and I couldn’t deny it, I fought with those I loved that the sky was green and the sun was blue like I knew secretes about the world because of you. But I didnt and I don’t and I know I never will, now I know if I dont see myself with the same admiration I poured upon your narcissism I do myself an injustice. 

Paved

Kiss me in the places that hold memories of him. Let me trail my fingers over your skin and see how much you want me.  

Keep my shattered soul. In pretty little pots. 

Label each one fragile and act suprised when they dont fit back together. 

And tell anyone who asks you only of my kindest moments and if they question about the rough edges,

Dont explain the monsters in my mind. 
And if they ask you am I happy, keep the anwsers short. No one words, cause they wont work. 

If you feel the need, to really ask the question. To pry apart the walls and find your way inside my heart again, I warn you of the things. That grow in the darnkess. Flora to eat your happiness and the fauna to fill you with anxiety. 

Remember, you may leave this place and follow paths a new, to quote a man of greatness, “I took the road less traveled by” and mines been paved with heartache.

Changes

​And when you look into the mirror,

Do you see the person you imagined would look back at you? Or are these scars shining like beacons. A broken facade. 

Those childish plans of kids and marriage and a big house. Darling, can you hear the voices? They started out as quite as a mouse but God, they speak out now. 

For better or for worse. This person is you. 

The face of failed promises and lies. The one who finds it easy to leave people bleeding. 

The one who turned out like everything she wanted to avoid. 

And you can’t even have the drugs, Cause the words you screamed in anger at fifteen now apply. 

“Honey, the drugs never work!

And you remain in silence. 

Cause what the point in speaking out? 

The goodness inside you isn’t what it used to be. Its clear for anyone to see. 

As the years pass by you become more hollow. 

How long until it all breaks?

Luck

And we are the type who pick four leaf clovers, We are the ones who take extra care not to tip the mirrors over. And we are the ones who step over cracks and with shaking hands put the razor back.  

We are the broken hearted warriors. Who never claimed to lead armies or move mountains. We simply fight our minds, to keep the clouds at bay. 

And we are the jacks of all trades! Who can sing for you in a sweet tone, and tell you a story on paper and bring to life your emotions through ourselves. But we can never give you a master piece. 

And we are the ones who put ourselves together, mentally and physically before each day.  We leave the house, salute the magpies, blow the dandelions and avoid the ladders. 

and we too, have learned to smile.

Decorated.

I remember the words you told me.
The moments we shared and the lifetime we promised each other.
And I am so sorry. I let you down.
I created a world, the darkness sinking into us would eventually drag us down.

And I wish I could make you understand why I ran.
Why I fell into his arms and why someone else’s feel like home.
I wish I could understand it myself.

So many words we never got to say. I’ll play into the ideas everyone has that you where a hero. Left too broken and brusied to live out a life in this world.

I covered my face. Or wore something long sleeved because everything in your head, made you decorate me

Tonight.

I lay awake tonight,
With a mind full of ghosts
And a room full of memories.
I lay awake tonight,
Cutting my nails to nubs,
So they can’t break the skin.

I lay awake tonight,
Because for the third night,
You haven’t texted.

And you’re probably awake.
Drilling over what he said to you.
The words he stole from my mouth.
God, you needed to hear those truths.

I lay awake tonight
Unblinking and still.
The silence is sinking into my bones.

You.

Can you smell last night on my skin? The sickly sweet smell of my whiskey lullaby. Or is ignorance bliss?
Do you truely believe me when I say I’m fine? Or are you too self involved to notice my words slack and the lines being repeated time and time again?
I truely believed you to be better. Unlike all the others. I put my faith in you.
Have you noticed all I sacrificed for you? Does it even cross your mind? Or do you console yourself with the thoughts I would have done it all anyway.
You are under my skin. In the lines off my favourite songs. In the words off my favourite books. All around me and I’m drowning in thoughts of you.

My Words.

If I pretend it doesn’t hurt maybe it won’t.
If I pretend my mind is silent maybe the voices that scream will rest.

My body’s exhausted and continues on through motions. Life does not stand still simply because I want it to. Life pours on, eroding my sanity and depositing worries to add to my pile.
Some days my pride, It burns so bright I swear I can trick you into believing I’m human. Or at least, trick myself.
If I pour your a glass of honey coated promises, will you sit with me a while? Even though you know I lie, will you please hold my hand? Even though you know I’m broken, Will you believe me if I say I’m fine?

Say sweet words, “you deserve to be happy” Make me promises you’ll never keep. Even though I know. I’ll hold out hope. Stroke my check and touch my body. Let me feel perfect.

Cause you see, I’m a broken dreamer. And the light in my eyes still flickers. And I’m a drowning survivor,  I’m a bandage cutter and all I ever wanted to be was your lover.