And I forged my heart
out of red rusted nails, I toiled over
soldered bolts, greased
in forgotten tales. Blood and oil.
Every part, lovingly restored
internally. To beat. A rhythm
of eternity. A boat. Ready to set sail.
I collected scraps, shards of hope,
cut by swords of distrust
into shreds of truth. And I bled for her.
I bled words that could only form
because I’d fallen in love with her.
I performed my part in the show,
I showed my heart was not just a token,
but a beacon of hope to lead us on to
greater tomorrows. A performance.
And I laid down my path, in faded stars,
leftover sorrows, and burrowed hearts.
But then my soul was crushed
beyond repair, I’d lost all hope,
and I no longer cared.
I wasn’t me. Not the me
I see when I turn the camera
back to see, if it was really me
or a mimic wearing my skin like a trophy.
I was someone I couldn’t be.
A mask pretending to be happy.
Internally nothing but atrophy...
But then I met you.
and I saw something magical.
something like a fantasy.
The fantastical, the wonderful,
the dazzling, the universe singing
something that was more than earthly,
more than human,
something that turned me
into someone I wanted
to lean on. To believe in.
A light to beam on.
You collected flowers of hope
coloured by pens of love
into poems of truth.
And I wept for you. Happy tears.
Joyful, love-filled oceans.
I slept on word-shaped pillows that could
only form because I’d fallen in love with you.
And I performed my part in the show,
I showed my heart was not just a token,
but a beacon of hope to lead us on to
greater tomorrows and I shone brighter
than the sun, then turned the spotlight on to you
to dazzle the room more, because this wasn’t
a performance but life being lived in front of everyone.
And you laid down a path, in glitter stars.
of lovestruck tomorrows, and conjoined souls.
And I drew my heart in coloured pencils...
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