Bleed and burn, on your own.

It’s a familiar feeling

Though not one I’ve courted

Nor one I’ve ever gotten used to

Like the delirium in my head

Or the bitterness in my mouth

The salt on warm cheeks.


It’s turning backs and closed doors,

Fingers letting go,

Dry eyes and goodbyes.

It’s a warm new wound

On a battered heart.

It’s watching pieces stolen from you,

Your missing parts

Becoming part of someone else’s

Jigsaw-puzzle soul.


It’s watching from afar,

Sunny smiles and joy

Bubbling on treacherous lips

Lips that could wound,

Words that took my breath away,

And wondering why

It’s you standing alone again,

Patchwork heart in hand.


You took away my sunshine,

Now you’re bathing in its light

While I’m standing in the dark

Waiting for a star to bloom

On a cold, unforgiving sky;

Diamonds on black velvet.


Maybe that’s the way

It’s written to be.

Maybe it really is just you

Tangling yourself into

The nooses of people’s timelines

Their heartstrings twisting

Round ready, delicate necks.

Maybe you’re just the moth

Flying on parchment wings

Into alluring flame

Only to burn yourself again

When the smoke clears away.




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