Sunday, 2 October 2011
01:45:19 AM (GMT)
I view from a different perspective.
Not the girl who went and wasted away her world,
but the one who watched me crumble my own.
Allowed me to crawl with a tattered heart
and bursting blood vessels screaming
of my tendencies to torture
my own insecurities and my treason
against words and promises of heaven
to others not to mention myself.
And, yes, I walked to the ocean of others
and felt it all ebb across my aching feet
I let the tides take my emotions to new extremes.
Because it mattered not if I shouted my
failing lungs did dream instead
of fresh air, untainted with mad-man's
philosophies and remedies for a torn pride.
I watched it fade as you took my hand
I sat back and watched you sponge it all away.
You cared not for my stories of infidelity.
To you all they were , were tales of the broken.
They haunt me, and I felt you watch as sleep
turned to fear and closing my eyes became a phobia.
I felt you fill my ocean with sand
and pump fresh air into my lungs as you stopped the dry-drowning.
you sowed me together just to watch me
rip it apart month after month, just allowed to heal.
The days when I fell apart
and my mouth was too dry to speak,
my lips turned from fear of my relapse.
All you did was whisper and wait for recovery.
No one could condemn you,
even when I felt you had lost it
for sticking with this project.
I could feel myself ripping away,
but you were there.
forgive me for anything I would've done without you.
Last edited: 2 October 2011