scar tissue
stream of consciousness
c i c a t r i z e d
heart
m o m e n t a r i l y
succumbs to
malleability
e x p e r i e n c e
lends it
no use
disregarding
e x p l o s i v e
firings of
w a r n i n g
s i g n a l s
it beats a
rogue tune
an
i g n o r a n t
song
cloaked in
hope
time after time
l o n g i n g
shrouds
the
w o u n d s
voluntarily
laid upon
your altar
s a n g u i n e
yearning
for
t h r e a d s
of
c o n n e c t i o n
to suture the
f i s s u r e s
w e l d e d
deep
graft the
g o u g e s
p u n c t u r e d
in innocent
n a ï v e t é
b l e e d i n g
out
pulses
of hope
l a c e r a t e d
perpetually
as a
s c a l p e l
of
v i t r i o l
slowly severs
another
c h a m b e r
backflow seeps
through the
n e g l i g e n t
cut
spilling as a
s a c r i f i c e
to the
t i t l e
you hold
while you
play
the chords
murmured in a
f a m i l i a r
c h a o t i c
tune
r u p t u r i n g
the
valve of trust
you
n e v e r
earned
and
this rogue
heart
m u s t
s u r r e n d e r
to the
painful
p r e s s u r e
of memory
c l o t t i n g
the
h e m o r r h a g e
slowly
diminishing
to a
d r i p
as a
f o r t r e s s
of
scar tissue
t h i c k e n s
around the
s h a t t e r e d
fragments
i n f l i c t e d
by delusional
desires
and
forgetfulness
of your
c a r e l e s s
disregard
for my
h e a r t
About the Creator
Kristen Balyeat
Words fly to me on the wind, bump me as I'm strolling the city, splash me in the face while I rest by the river, and shake me awake in the middle of the night—I’m humbly one of the vessels they use to come to life.
Also, i love you:)
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