I found pieces of myself amidst the chaos and debris. A flowing river of mistakes and shadow pain. Love imagined into exist by the mirror of reflection. Gained through misdeads. Unheard cries block out the sunshine of the day and leave a foggy overcast within my eyes.

The rain clouds emerge with the fierceness of what once was passion and desire. Lust has missed its calling and left the seed of emptiness to thrive. Blossoming into the nothingness that is you and your cracking armor. A statue of divine beauty. Too tragic to embrace. To imperfect to turn away. In the shadow streams of yearning I struggle against the current. Too protect your perfect imperfections from the ever growing storm.

But darkness has fallen and the streams have carried my will to the outlets and nooks. And my will to care has been pushed into the sullen sea of regret.

Her face is a poem,

stops men in their tracks.

But her piece of art,

is defined by its cracks.

She worries and races,

throughout her whole day.

No one stops to think,

about the price she must pay.

While others want from her,

to her family she gives.

Her freedom must die,

so their hope may yet live.

Then one day she meets him,

recognizes his power.

He begs for her trust,

and bears Bleeding Heart flowers.

Her eyes tell him the story,

of the way she must go.

He respects her decision,

about their love yet to grow.

Her heart is a puzzle,

and by her mind it's driven,

It can never be taken,

it can only be given.