Can her heart be broken a thousand times by the same ghosts?
Because through the pain she bleeds words cut from stone,
Carved into the broken walls of her veins,
Her blood seeps through her pen,
Magical words hide a past,
More then just a shadow lay behind her,
But no one sees,
The knife that cuts is the words of the dead,
Hidden by there emptiness they act as if though they're sweet nothings,
Pain deep inside but she doesn't speak,
Because who will believe the words of the dead,
So few see the patterns and paintings carved slowly through the years all on her skin,
All deep within,
People speak and it's the words that cut,
A moment taken apart,
Listening to the words unspoken
The truth hidden in the lies,
Can her heart be broken by the same ghosts everytime?
Or can she heal enough to let go?
By Marina Vos