and I look down and I'm bleeding again
another heart strike, unintentioned
but no idea it would go so deep, through the heart of me
patchwork's back out
spending a day walking around
in stitched and broken skin
matches the feeling
it's a needed thing
but for this, I'd be screaming
and more scars, more walls
around the heart of me that wants nothing but clear air
more barriers I have to push around
to take another risk
more pain for when I do
and more mistrust
and no way to call him back because
my hand will not move to beckon
my head counts him already gone
my heart sinks into mourning
my words fail me...
What kills me about this? I called this. I called this. I was taking bets against myself that this wouldn't happen, with the bulk of me nodding cynically, saying it would.
I wonder if there was ever a chance for the demon, for me. Ever a chance to have a moment of untainted truth. Ever a moment where hope truly won the day.
I guess not...and the list continues to grow.
Beginning to think no demons, I have bad luck with them.
Really beginning to think, no more monogamous people.
Becoming a burdensome list...