Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
A new and improved, more better, revamped edition of someone who probably never really needed the overhaul
If I could be a lesser thorn
In your side,
Would you claim you never
Tried to fix me?
Would the burns
And the wounds erase,
Turning your mind
Back into ignorance?
Would knowing be less
Painful if my being
Had never sprung into existence?
Who would you be trying to fix then?
Am I a puzzle
You must solve?
Am I shattered glass
That you must feverishly
Piece back together?
Or are these all just words
That you throw at me,
To blacken me,
To bruise me,
To break me
When I was never broken before?
Lets weigh your words and see
How much honesty they hold.
March 15, 2009
In your side,
Would you claim you never
Tried to fix me?
Would the burns
And the wounds erase,
Turning your mind
Back into ignorance?
Would knowing be less
Painful if my being
Had never sprung into existence?
Who would you be trying to fix then?
Am I a puzzle
You must solve?
Am I shattered glass
That you must feverishly
Piece back together?
Or are these all just words
That you throw at me,
To blacken me,
To bruise me,
To break me
When I was never broken before?
Lets weigh your words and see
How much honesty they hold.
March 15, 2009
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
A new and improved, more better, revamped edition of someone who probably never really needed the overhaul
A new and improved, more better, revamped edition of someone who probably never really needed the overhaul
