The heart bleeds
The heart bleed in so many ways. The words that fall from my mouth into tears echo throughout soul. They dance like fireflies across the midnight skies.
Oh how I long to be away from here. The moments where nothing sits right within me. The world is tipsy topsy and winding curvy. The mind just screams aloud. Yet nothing falls from paled lips.
Just the silent muse I stand waiting for someone to open my heart. Dance with the heat that is deep within me. Entertain just once the way I was for you.
Oh yet I laugh at myself. I was nothing to you. I was the easy lay. The other side. The next chart but never a reality. I could not be.
And yet the way I felt for you. Well I am damned forever for that emotion. Careful how I am now. Striving so hard to be this new me and yet all that is left of me is torn pieces.
Still I am thriving. I don't even know how. My core, the grains of sand inside of me just sit. Unaware of where I might need them to go. Which part of me is dying.
Ah no place. I bleed and I bleed but nothing falls from me. It's all an internal burn. The buried pieces that scratch at me will remain. They will be the parts that remind me I wanted you so badly and yet it, I was never enough.
Careful now, Mary. Watch where you tread. Cannot be a real person if I look back. But I will. I must. I have yet to let all the blasts disappear. So many tiny explosions still rattling inside of me. Yet. Still.
Nothing is escaping except the reminder that I played with a player and I forgot I could be played. So far toasted that never resurfacing in that life.
So yeah I bleed hard. I want to wreck a few things and then I see no point. Nothing I do would ever get me back inside. So that is how it has to be.
I bleed. My heart bleeds. I mourn. A slow death of a wonderful woman who loved one man way too damned much.
Cruel.
Oh how I long to be away from here. The moments where nothing sits right within me. The world is tipsy topsy and winding curvy. The mind just screams aloud. Yet nothing falls from paled lips.
Just the silent muse I stand waiting for someone to open my heart. Dance with the heat that is deep within me. Entertain just once the way I was for you.
Oh yet I laugh at myself. I was nothing to you. I was the easy lay. The other side. The next chart but never a reality. I could not be.
And yet the way I felt for you. Well I am damned forever for that emotion. Careful how I am now. Striving so hard to be this new me and yet all that is left of me is torn pieces.
Still I am thriving. I don't even know how. My core, the grains of sand inside of me just sit. Unaware of where I might need them to go. Which part of me is dying.
Ah no place. I bleed and I bleed but nothing falls from me. It's all an internal burn. The buried pieces that scratch at me will remain. They will be the parts that remind me I wanted you so badly and yet it, I was never enough.
Careful now, Mary. Watch where you tread. Cannot be a real person if I look back. But I will. I must. I have yet to let all the blasts disappear. So many tiny explosions still rattling inside of me. Yet. Still.
Nothing is escaping except the reminder that I played with a player and I forgot I could be played. So far toasted that never resurfacing in that life.
So yeah I bleed hard. I want to wreck a few things and then I see no point. Nothing I do would ever get me back inside. So that is how it has to be.
I bleed. My heart bleeds. I mourn. A slow death of a wonderful woman who loved one man way too damned much.
Cruel.
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