A short poem.
remember the day when we sat on the swings, and i told you that i had a secret nobody knew? but all you said was,"secrets are for the weakend soul, the one that isn't strong enough to erupt and be fractured." i always thought you were a bit strange. remember when i ran to your house after another fresh wound to add to my shattered heart, to add to the evidence on my skin? all you said was, "profound, complicated wounds are for the soul to carry, to carry as a remnant of the strong struggle to heal itself," you always talked about souls, but you seemed to have an empty one. you never smiled or laughed, you just stood there, waiting to grasp me in your arms, like home. through the years, i thought i used you, always coming back to you, but never once did you ask for something other than that. you were like a ticking clock, each minute getting closer to exploding all together, but never did that clock complete a minute of time. remember i told you i was in love, but wouldn't say it? all you said was,"it'll be a happily ever after for us, though" never once did i doubt it, for it was the only time i saw that smile. remember when i had grown up, but you still stood there, waiting? well, i kissed you then, and i felt you laugh and smile, and your soul grew with joy. we both knew my secret from the start. I love you, fool.
Created: Nov 27, 2009Document Media