I ride the train home with my heart in my hand, knowing walking away is the right decision. You were a skilled surgeon, with the knife in your hand that broke my heart with your final incision. Naiveté led me to believe that you were the knight who would save my dreams, I assumed we were two peas in a pod as you used your charm to trick me into thinking we were a team. Misled again as the blood drained from my face, filling my journey with horror as I long for the pain to be replaced. I refuse to regress and return to past vices, although they are tempting, sobriety is more enticing. I want to be conscious as my soul cries out with pain, I yearn to feel the sorrow that washes over me like the rain. We could have conquered castles and taken over Rome, but instead I seek out my mother's hand, hoping to feel the comfort that is home. Unburdened of your child's play, colour no longer seems as bright; as the silent reverie I find in sleep veiled in the darkness that is night. I have lived throughout the worst but this cut feels the deepest, I used to be as noble as kings, my kingdom entirely elitist. My journey transpires into a mission that robs me of my reality, as I crawl into a ball unconcerned with our duality. Your eyes hypnotized me concealing the lies they hid within, as the smile falls off my face encasing me in a cloud of my own chagrin. The sun falls out of my sky accosting me for my neglect, as I have been stripped of my happiness as a result of your disrespect. In retrospect this is entirely of my own doing, as I attempt to remove the foot from my mouth, and realize its my own heart that I was chewing. Confusion creates chaos as it crawls upon my skin, ceasing celebrations, I can't stop my suffering. My journey home ends with clarity setting on the horizon, I prepare to disembark, older now as I hope that I have learned from this and finally wizened.
Time stood still for nary a soul, it dragged its feet, aching and old. Blistering heat that made us melt, we were once softer than silk felt. Hallowed hearts wind whistled through, covered in bruises, black and blue. Hardly broken, but maybe bent, running on empty and love spent. There comes a day in all our lives, when our failures cut deep as knives. But you shall remain a triumph, you stayed with me, like a science. Words were whispered, curses, we'd shout, until the blood drained from our mouths. Yesterday—softer than silk felt; seems like all we do these days is yell.
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