The Truth That Hides

Heart Beats I held on so tight my fingers bled, Knuckles purpled and stained red, White and pale, Sometimes holding on does more harm than letting go, A thorn piercing a throbbing heart, Drained of energy and emotion, High off of the fumes that emerged from the ashes, They all fall down, Into muggy waters, They can’t breathe, Tears flew from faces like splattered paint on a splintered canvas, Clothing ripped, Mauled by lies, If I survive don’t call me alive, Stripped of pride, I choked on blocks of complication, I would take a rusted axe to the arm over your double bladed tongue to the side of my brain, I wish for my mind to rot, I hope that it would prevent me from thinking of you, Even a bruised heart continues to beat for non other than you.