Crushing every bone in my body that disconnects me from my soul. Wounding me through and through. My screams became timid and I lost everything so I can never be pretentious.
Trenches of my sorrows and bloody rivers of my goals.
Walking dirt roads alone.
Deserts with peasants and deeper confessions.
So I confess unto him; you being him.
I fell to my knees knowing you enjoyed my heart bleeding. Every beat was intended to be reciprocated. I laid to my right side for you to connect to my left. I panted with panic; oh my goodness you were suppose to be there.
I try to be forgetful, if I forget than I would never have to admit.
The truth sets you free, and often my truth gets me dumbfounded.
I have to admit that my pain tainted my soul, and I am no longer a hopeless romantic.
Confess before it’s too late there’s a moment or two left.