Ah, to be broken;
a beautiful and painful thing.
The dust in my eye is heavy and wet.
The weeds in my heart need pruning.
The crawling veins in my arms are tired of moving.
The sleepy voice of mine refrains from making a noise tonight.
Because,
I'm broken,
and,
my heart hurts.
A bleeding heart;
a beautiful and painful thing.
Depending on what you do with it...
that is.
Depending on who you let come and stop the bleeding.
You can't stop it.
Your gauze and rags can only stop it for so long.
You need a healer.
I know one.
Would you like to know His name?
No comments:
Post a Comment