Sometimes, when the scar has seemed to heal,
I reject its process to heal,
By a singular motion of my right and dominant hand
To tear it open,
And release the tides upon my feet.
I breathe the scent of iron,
Soon as emotion is revealed, once again.
I wanted to forget,
And I wanted to forgive you,
And yet, my strength had always waned,
When I aimed to.
A little and lone teardrop faded from my eye,
To where my hand caught it, to cradle it, and toss it aside.
Sometimes, I will open the wound,
Just to feel, again.
Sometimes, I will hear the tune of a guitar
Or read the passages of lonely verse,
To feel, again.
And I will remember the warmth of your love.
Little face, I will never forget,
A beauty I’ve come to bury deep,
In this heart, so swollen with grief, and permeating emptiness.
My love was true for you, and so much to you.
I offered my life upon you,
And though we parted without fault,
I still open the wound, to feel the pain, once again.