The Beautiful Wounding Of My Heart

Me…

Now,

Just a distant memory.

And I don’t blame you,
For the shunning.

Nor do I blame my heart,
For still loving you.

But that’s the brutal
Reality of life…

Isn’t it?

It’s not that I occasionally
Think of you…

It’s that not a day passes,
Without me needing you.

And unfortunately,
There remains a tempting
Distance that still
Separates my reality
From that shadow of you.

Your words remain,
Though,
Everyday,

Gently tearing
At the open cut
In my soul,

My emotions
Seeping out to a world
Hidden from all
But my empty eyes,
And forever longing
For you.

You’d suggest,
With all the practicality
And straightforwardness,

(Those very same walls,
That my passion for you
Could not penetrate…)

You’d suggest that
I simply stop reading your words,

Stop consuming those messages
I thought so surely,
And so wrongfully,
Were meant for me.

Just stop…

So you’d say.

But maybe,

Just maybe,

I want that pain.

Maybe it’s the seeping
That feeds the fantasy,

Draining the dreams,

And needing so desperately,
To be refilled by a thousand
Of your written whispers.

A thousand emotional cuts,
Followed by
A thousand emotional scars…

To be followed by
A thousand more cuts.

I have no choice,

No choice but to live,
And bleed freely.

Bleed freely
From the incessant…

Luscious…

Tortuous…

And beautiful wounding

Of my heart.

© 2018 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

32 thoughts on “The Beautiful Wounding Of My Heart

  1. Bleed freely from the incessant, luscious and tortuous…and here we are all bleeding with a cut from the same sword. A sword of denied love and indifference. Passionate, Stunning and bloody 👌

    Liked by 2 people

  2. sensitive words – never have guilt, tell your heart, it is just being true to itself – never deny the beauty it can be – love the bleeding lines Bill – very intense – i sigh.

    Liked by 2 people

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