Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Stained with Red

I never asked you to change for me, to make my life better.  I thought it all would come naturally and a little of it did but it didn't last.  How can I know you if you don't know yourself?  The evil twins and their handmaiden surrounded you.  Your past clung to you like a dying man to a stick in the water wanting to use you to keep it alive.

How is it that my heart still bleeds for you?  For you?  I don't even know you.  The real you.  How is it that the pain of loss is still alive?  I keep thinking I have pulled the knife out only to look down and discover it is still there.  Just a little messier.  The handle a little more stained with red.




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