Blooming flower

I told you I loved you and wished you well; up until the very last day  I left you with a smile on my face  You loved me still, but would never say the words; You always felt your pain was the worst  You left me in silence not knowing how it hurt; When those unspoken words began to burn 

  Numbingly outnumbered in this world of easy prediction  Harboring a soul too heavy for the average heart to care for  Wandering  Not lost  But searching for a place to call home 

  I am strong yet I am fragile  Though I rarely run out of pieces to break  Too many times I have stood tall in the pit of my breaking point  Lightly gripping the edge before f alling in slow motion  I soak my soul in written words Dripping letters into the fine lines of my brain  An easy escape for a time filled with pain

  Held prisoner within my mind with haunting yet exhilarating thoughts of you My brain a jumbled mess of yours and my own I've never held on this tightly, though letting go has never been my strong suit  I reminisce less often these days; Frequency having been replaced by intensity I know I am only breaking down a wall that has been beaten endlessly, covered in abrasions  I am frantically searching for words to make sense of my recently disguised despair  It's not a lack of happiness, no It's an excess of spiritual need with no promise of relief Leading a life by the demands of those with the illusion of authority Filing into a long line and awaiting my external captivation 

I have given more than I have ever owned; Mind, Body, and Soul Doubt lies within my efforts, Doubt in the worth of my kindness Spreading myself thin in order to fill the empty spaces Harboring the worry that I ask of too much from this world Will the deep care that I have shared be reciprocated? Or have I exaggerated the intent of my actions? I have given every last inch of myself in the search for the feeling of belonging, I must be too far gone

Analyzing the words as I speak Years of unheard hurt and resilience scarcely piled up on the verge of tipping, Waiting for a chance to be felt in full. They live in a box with holes through the top to let the air in, leaving no room for expression. 

There is irony in your sad eyes  Empty promises leave your mouth drooling with sideways truths  The one you tore your heart out for would never sew it shut Still, you sit in regretful self pity with a mask over your face, mourning a loss that was always sure to come  Ripping your flowers from her neglected soil, destroying the foundation from the roots of the one you once loved Blind to the true pain you have caused, with not a sliver of empathy