• heranaaz 9w

    You look me in the eyes
    and don’t know how to hold onto
    the weight of something so broken
    that it crushes you with
    it’s mere existence

    So you look past me.

    I don’t blame you
    I’ve been avoiding mirrors too

    The smell of bruises from my soul
    clings like the smoke from the bodies on the battleground
    I am a bride of war and
    and all this red is just me wearing the death of all the people
    I have become or didn’t allow myself to become.

    You don’t have to sweep me off this earth like dust from the past

    The center of the war
    is such a lovely place to be;

    I’m bruised and trembling
    but the hands on the clock are broken and
    I’m not worried about the war any longer

    The fruit fell and the seeds are buried.

    But the war will come again.
    And again I’ll be red.

    You can look past me.