...

I'll break your heart a thousand times before I break your spirit.
It may feel like I have now,
But I haven't.
No, these cracks come from the routine of every day life.
Eyes that no longer light for the other.
Careless words that attach to skin and bite deep.
Nakedness only when clothes slip off of tired frames.
Momentos of a second hand many times round.

Kill me, the messenger.
I opened the cage to let these birds of misery
Or hope
Escape.

You could feel it in your bones
Like the oncoming cold
Though it had already set it.
Maybe we're all numb and we don't know it
Until something
Breaths life into these deflated and dry lungs.

I came back
And never killed what was left inside
Rattling around
Pulling at the cerebral caged bars
Spark to bolt
Over and over
Leaving again

Forgive me.

We're all burning that midnight oil
Waiting for the person bringing the torch to light
Or hoping the one next to you will shine out from these silent nights
In the end
We burn the house down waiting.

Put the fire out with our blood
Shed from clawing to find truth
And hold on to these curtains
That pull away from windows
Seeing what you kept inside.
There is nothing to find.

I'll break your heart a thousand times before I break your spirit.
Or maybe
I already did.