Beyond the Cuts and Bruises

Pulvis et Umbra Sumus Black Wings of A Grey Bird

Beyond the Cuts and Bruises

Yesterday, I was a rich traveler in your deepest oceans, drowned in the waves of Love. Today, I am a wreck floating on your dried up grey shores. What we were, what we hoped to become �� it is nothing but a hazy image painted on the crimson skies of our dawn. Locked away into an ice-cube lies my heart which you so ignorantly try to find. With eyes closed, we lie under the broken stars as they continue falling around us. Giving up was never an option for us; all we can do is continue living in this empty shell of life and passion.

I wear this mask and you think it is me. It only hides what lies beneath. It does not define me. It does not control me. It does not become me. It is made of pain hidden away from years, lies and broken smiles I eat away silently, promises made in the light of darkness, hope that has been in vain for far too long. Beneath this mask, I cut and bleed and bite away the pain and eat away the grey and walk on.

I have climbed mountains and fallen �� but it was the climb that made me strong and not the prize at the other end. When I lie alone at night, memories seep through my blinds like silent yet heavy shadows dancing their way in. I do not make mistakes, you see. I paint them on my walls and in these veins that are filled with life but otherwise feel empty. I sit in a gloom in my back garden and when you see me there, you think it is the only place I can thrive in. The words I utter pass you by like a whispered breeze you refuse to feel on your dead skin. I sent my soul away so that the pain of the here and now and of far beyond can make me whole again. Happiness doesn��t come easy to me; it is a part I was not born with. There is a hole inside every heart that can only be filled with the power of Love �� one that does not know the grey of misery and defeat. You see that grey and begin to think that it is the only color God painted the world in. That is how less we see, how we fear and never know anything further than that. You think just because I do not have a home, I am lost. But even the lost are on their way to be found. So I put my heart where my home is and make my own paths to be found from.

Last night, we roamed around in the world where we can be ourselves, free and wild. But when you thought I could not be more than what you see on the outside, I started giving you up. For there is no use holding on to what does not wish to be held on to.

We see a faded sun and think that it is all there is��to look upon. I am a soldier not for anyone else as much as I am for myself. Inside this mind, there is a battle field you know nothing about or ever will; it is hidden behind tall trees that bleed red and shed tears; thick clouds of survival that hover above the ground and make it hard to be seen. The sword I fight with, I molded it with pieces of a broken heart I buried under your iron sea so long ago, it is probably dried up by now. A fire burns forever on this battlefield, its flames lighting up every dark corner of my mind. What you see in me when you look into my eyes in the reflection of that fire, not me.