✦
They say there is beauty
in pain-
and I believe them...
for there are pages
and pages of beauty I have left exposed-
on paper...
burned...
or not yet composed...
for my heart holds poems that even I cannot write.
But what they do not say or understand...
is that this pain has been my friend
for so long-
has been the art that I hang on these walls...
hidden behind the closed doors of my chest...
pinned to my
sleeve.
So close
that I cannot tell
the difference between pain and me.
And when that pin
decides it is time-
for this heart to bleed or heal (what is the difference)...
it bleeds.
Flows so furiously slow down the vein of my heart and through this pen...
So much a part of me
that I cannot tell
where poetry ends and I begin.
And...
I am afraid.
I am afraid if I release this pain from my blood-
unpin this pain from my heart...
that this most trusted friend will finally leave me-
taking with it all the stories from my pages...
Don't you see?
I have to keep it.
✦
December 14th, 2018
