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A Story For The Years
arms adorned with a history of self
a story told in tears unshed
the moments once so meaningful
have all overlapped and now encase
these arms and legs in lines weighted
with misery and distress, ugly reminders
of what I've left behind, the past is done
but the reminders are there, and I'm not
quite as strong as everyone thinks, but perhaps
I'm not quite as weak as I seem to believe
maybe one day, I'll learn to live my life
without needing someone to hold my heart
maybe one day, I'll learn to bear this burden
of this heavy heart, all by myself.
maybe, just maybe.
perhaps these lines that sealed themselves
were put there in an effort to lighten the load
of this heavy heart, for at the time
that's what it seemed to do
released the pressure, lessened the weight
of a heart filled with love, but hurt as well
this heart is so full, nothing can help,
except to be literal with a euphemism
making it a bleeding heart in truth
