On My Hands

September 17, 2018

I never realised that on this journey I would need an attorney just to be myself

The hollow scope of reality swallowed me when I met and left you

You left me like I was a used up tissue. Nights before you cried like a moment away from me would be the biggest issue. You cried as though our love was sent from the highest heavens... I still wonder why I trusted a person I didn’t know. I still wonder.


I never realised the truth and the lie was all we really had. I never realised the sparkle in your eye was infact a reflection of the knife in my heart. A heart I didn’t really understand or appreciate myself. Maybe if I did, I would have never let you come so close. 


I never realised I would need an attorney just to be myself

Innocence is such a treasure, it’s priceless

No timepiece can buy this. Innocence is such a treasure. It’s priceless. No time can reverse. 


I miss you young blud. I miss you young man. Your eyes were so much clearer. Your ears were so much sharper. Or were they numb? Numb to the fools tales. Numb to the lies. Only concerned with cartoons and cereal....not a golden watch, not a golden fence, not a soap opera and chill..... just cartoons and cereal


I love you young blud. I’m gonna fight for you back even if it’s the last thing I do. I love you. I’ll fight for you back even if it’s the last god damn thing I do. I’m gonna fight. And I’m gonna find you once again. Trust me. I love you


Melancholy is so addictive when you see reality in it’s shameless form. It’s a vision of destruction. I can’t do this to myself anymore. I’ve held on to these illusions. I’ve lost myself in these tales of romance and bromance. Either hand is the upper hand. I’m still waiting. No more.


Self love. The key.

It’s the key but is there a door? I’m still confused and conflicted. No arrows for my bow when I never knew how to hate. Just love. Did I really know? I don’t know. I’m so conflicted. I’m so conflicted. Take it all away. I just want to be free. Take it all away. These memories haunt me as though blood was on my hands....... it’s my own blood. What have I done? Oh God, what have I done? My tears won’t wash it away from my hands. I don’t know why. Life goes on as you tell me ‘no’ you can’t give me my watch back. Life goes on. 



I was just a line in your story. I was just a line. I was just a poem to you. A swift joke, a swift flight of fancy, tailored for your sick vendetta. That’s all I was. 


My blood is in my hands. Self sacrifice for a new beginning. My blood is in my hands. I see a new dawn. I see a new me. A new year, I start now. Self sacrifice. Shalom. Welcome to the world. Self love. God be with us all



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