deepundergroundpoetry.com

Acoustics

I sometimes lie in bed, running my fingers over the scars that litter my body,
And some days I manage to find the love that is buried within them.
There are nights that I count the lines running across my wrists, and I wish that I could go back to a time where I never wanted to hurt her in the first place.
I know that it is not so simple, that my body has learned to live with such a sadness as fierce as her.

I know that it weighs on her chest at night, and that sometimes it is a struggle for us to even breathe.
But I do know that she has changed just as much as me, that the intrusive thoughts of littering our skin only come at night time now, and that holding down dinner isn't as hard.
That the food inside of our belly stays there at least half of the time, even when it wants to come up so badly that all we can do is cry.

I sometimes like to listen to the breaths we take, and marvel at how something so broken as us could still work in perfect unison,
How beautiful I become sometimes, and how weightless I feel when things go right.
I like to lie awake at night and strum my fingers over the scars that litter my thighs,
And sometimes I find the strength to look for the regret and the love that lives within them.

Because there are days and nights like this, where I find the strength to look us both in the mirror and marvel at how something so broken as I, could be so god damn perfect sometimes.