#90

Stop Bleeding (Mar 31)

I've been bleeding for all these years
mourning my loss, mourning my dreams
mourning the love that's far away from me
without looking to mend it, or even forget it.

What will happen, or what will shatter?
What will perish, if that's all that matters?
The love, or the lack thereof
will remain buried
across time that's gone.

If I could sum up all my words
into one feeling
one that can summarize
the goodbye I'm fearing
I would say the word,
just one word
or one sentence
so it would be remembered
before I go.

"I will always remember our love."

I'll stop the bleeding, or at least I'll try
because I know I have to keep on living
or else I'm going to bleed out.

I want to cut my umbilical cord.
I want to cut the ties
that bind me to your soul.
I hopefully will move on.

Maybe you already have.
Maybe you've already severed the ties
and walked away, towards your happiness.

Good, and don't you look back
because we never know of what we have
until we've finally lost it.
And I've lost it, already twice.

I can only hope
that you're still not bleeding
the death of our love.
I can only hope
that you're still not mourning
the scarring of your soul.

Let's stop bleeding
and let's try forgiving
ourselves for our mistakes,
our misdeeds,
and our pain.

Only then can we look forward
to the time that we have left.

It's time that we move on
towards the road that awaits.
It's time that we bid farewell,
turn our backs, and walk away.

So goodbye, my lover
goodbye, my pain
and goodbye, my dream.

I'll always love the love we once shared
and I'll always cherish all the things you did.
I'll never forget the bleeding on our wrists
as they've marked the trail I followed
even if it was for better, or for worse
it's what I chose, it's what I decided to carry on
and I will carry it on, on my shoulder, that's for sure
until the day I keel over and accept my ground
beneath the dirt, beneath the worms
beneath the failed longings
of our mangled, broken love.

It was love, nonetheless.
It mattered for something,
at the end of the day.

I am sorry, but I am grateful.
I am crying, but I'm not hateful
of how things turned out to be.

And if the bleeding is God's way of condemning me
then let me be condemned, as I, grateful for everything
will struggle and walk my way
never forgetting that the blood behind me
is the memories of the times we spent
so long, long ago.

I will always remember our love.
I always will, don't you doubt it.


See you tomorrow, on the Poetic April.