Poem of the Week - August 20th



I'm left with petals in my hand

I'm left with my shattered heart in my throat

choking on the pieces everytime I say:

                               I love you

it cuts my tongue

i bleed for you, 

i would suffer for you, 

i grabbed the sunrise and

put it in a jar to give you

so every morning you would awake to the warm rays kissing your skin,  so even when I'm not there to write sweet love notes upon your skin you could still open to the magic touch of my stardust illuminating your veins, 

to remind you the darkness that seeps into your mind, never will swallow you - there is hope even in the darkest of nights, 

i will be your North Star,

follow me home.

but instead you scoffed at my soul, and how it burned for you, you didn't like the blue hues that showed in the sky, the warm yellows that hit your irises, the electricity that hit your body with one kiss.  

I never was bright enough for you to feel full, every word I spoke, every touch I made was never what you wanted. 

you began to look for another stars hues. One full of minutes and seconds, a flower already bloomed, with both hands-on you. 

you took my worth and dimmed my eyes

you took my worth and covered me in dirt 

taking my name and burying it with weeds, with vulgarity as you smirked at the wound that began to open on my chest, 

suffocating any ounce of light I try to emit for you,

you carved out my love with your piercing words from my cavity and swallowed my heart leaving me bleeding out on the floor,

i begging you to 'please just take my hand, take me for who I am, each and every day,' 

using your tongue to break my delicate petals

to build yourself up,

as you hold me underneath the muddy water, while you breathe in the summer air, 

to feel like the sun to proudly walk around showing others a fake facade of the story you left

as the girl you abandoned from the toxic ways of your mind lays unable to breathe the saltwater sea, 

the type of light you give isn't one to help me grow, 

you burned the best parts of me

I'm left with petals in my hand,

I'm left with my chest cut open,

I'm left with your love letters and the ink bleeding off the pages,

unable to see the way you believed in us 

I keep rewatching you take the parts of me you wanted, leaving the rest

of broken promises and 'i love you always' buried in the truth of 

i was never enough for you. 

You destroyed me with your anger, the violent way you live

covering your wounds with a poem of 'the truth hurts,' when the only truth is: 

you never wanted this light to bring you home.