my heart is in pieces,
the aftermath of a bloody war,
now organs can be seen hanging on washing lines drying,
the byproducts of what we caused,
now, no Romeo will sing for his Juliette from the window sill,
I will not smile myself into sleep,
For me and my beloved are over,
There will be no melodies that will be played into my ears as I wake,
I will create a museum out of my skeleton,
Will hang what is left of the ruins of this massacre,
they should label it as “Love: ‘not enough’,
In years to come I will smile, and laugh at my tragic reality,
how a lady lost her family to freedom and love,
and how a boy lost his lady to his own false realities,
I wonder what types of burns they encountered,
A collage of heartbreak,
person after person burning out the good in me,
Sometimes I retire to my home,
I make a bed out of a nest for my bones,
use honey to glue my limbs back together,
despite all the truths I tell myself,
no matter how much I trust the process,
the heart torments the mind,
which in turn torments the body,
juvenile delinquencies,
I will surrender to love,
but will never give up my peace,
or ever give up my liberty,
and maybe thats what scares them?
That I love myself enough to leave all that I know,
For freedom,,
because only God knows what my body is fighting from,
he knows what the eyes have endured,
and what the mind cannot unsee,
One day I will love them into forgiveness,
and I will forgive them,
the way they could never forgive me,