Almost Poetic

Numb

Sometimes someone touches you and you come alive
And sometimes
You are left to clean up the ashes
Left with more spaces for sad poems to dwell

You are better off left dead
Telling no tales about how you could lose so much when you thought you had nothing left to give
Maybe we should let the dead rest in peace
We should not try to resurrect dead souls with bloody hands
Murderers should let the dead rest in peace

Maybe we should keep our hands to ourselves
We cannot be touching hearts with hands that are sharpened blades hungry for blood
Touch every part of my body with your blade
Cut me open to make room to bury all your victims
But leave my heart out of it

My heart is not a burial ground for all the hearts you broke on your way to me
It is not a pit stop on your way to your true love
It is not a battlefield where you can come face to face with yourself
Neither is it a masquerade, where you come wearing a mask
showing only what you think I wanna see
It’s not a circus, so you can save your performance

My heart is not a burial ground for those who left you
It is not an altar for you to exorcise your demons
My heart is not a storybook to calm your nightmares
It is flesh, and your blade is getting too close

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