the sting of pain is prone to death

what foolishness, that time can heal wounds
but bring knives to the skin
you are healing in a moment
and fickly bleeding the next

is your blood unseen by eyes?
is it hiding under your sleeves?
get out of yourself and leave your body
before it bleeds inward

to the soul

you were put in my hands once
i held you close and called you my own
i spoke words that would push and pull
but your movements leaned

to the body

who are you to me?
you have stepped into a floor not meant for joy
but for war on dependance that dances
in the light of a graceful one

so do not speak of your battle
if your battle is your ecstasy
for the challenge is rewarding
only if you trample over yourself