Thursday, June 19, 2014

When We Know Better

For the black one, and the gold one.

One day, when I know you better,
I will peel back the
layers of my skin and
show you scars
time has long since healed:
perfect crescent moons
carved into aching flanks
by regretful nails.

One day, when you know me better,
you will learn
to read the language of these lines,
and you will know that
some days
these were the only words
I had to tell you:
Help me
I’m not coping
I’m not coping
I’m not coping

And some days,
they were crimson threads that bound me
to tangibility
when my head threatened to
sweep my feet from under
me.

One day, when we know each other better,
we will sit together
underneath
the stars of our achievements,
and we will see how
bright they shine,
and we will know
that stars are brighter than the crimson
lines we write upon our souls.

One day, when we both know better,
we will take a silver pen
and transcribe across our
souls the truth:
that we are precious
we are magic
we are kind

And the silver glow of our words
and the golden light of our stars
will outshine
all the crimson etchings of our guilt,
and we will rejoice.
For we are worth it.

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