It twirls between my tongue,
Each breath I take, encapsulated in this melted essence of sorrow
This horrowing feeling that comes to taunt me in the night times
This friend of mine, joined to me at the hip, never leaving
Is this due to my broken childhood, teenage years
Or is it my own self,
Is it my own heartache, is it already embedded in me
Will it ever leave me, like a child running from their fears,
throwing themselves into their mothers arms
This idea of home lies within her chest,
Within her arms,
But where were my arms?
I was given a broken gourd of a life,
within those arms I never saw anything
There was emptiness, there was never warmth in her chest
There was never love in her eyes,
Only fear and anger resided between those loving eyes
Her tongue never spoke to make love
Only knives sharpened themselves on her teeth,
Only chards of glass came rocketing out her mouth
I was given a broken Heart as a gift from God,
My test is to live with a broken heart,
Broken from my Mother, from the sorrows of this world,
From the Death of my Father,
For the death of my family,
Where are the arms that were supposed to embrace me?
Where was the phone call I was supposed to longengly wait upon
Every heartbeat I take, is half empty,
My blood runs low on oxygen,
She didn’t breathe into me at all,
I found myself suffocated,
It was like cyanide had been placed into my mouth,
Told to swallow it whole,
Take it like poison, something that can’t be swallowed
Still managed to drown me, like fighting someone who is taking your life
In front of your eyes,
Someone who bought pillows to cover your mouth,
to drown out the tears,
to stop the Breath from breathing
She took more than my Life from me,
She broke my Heart,
and left me to fight with something that only works off of hope
So I remain Lonely,
with a broken heart I cannot heal the wound to,
The wound is never to be healed,
because this scar is far too deep,
far too rich in the ecstasy it bought her,
Far too purple and black,
I wish never to see her again.
I wish only happiness onto her
My own womb broken.
Almost as a metaphor of what happened to us,
Broken at the umbilical cord,
She was never a Mother to me,
Only gave me the gift of a broken heart,
So I could go Love further,
and still have my heart broken from the lonliness.