I found her covered in open wounds, that were bandaged with insecurities.
The pain of the past often bleeds out in shouts, and tears of the soul that judge what my intentions were about.
False thoughts that are caught, but never grasped.
You see.. Love is a task, that we often treat as a hassle. Conditioned to believe it is conceived from princesses, and castles.
But Disney is fiction, and I’m afraid you don’t comprehend the diction in which my actions speak.
A war that I may be destined to lose, because my heart is marked as the enemy, when it’s fighting to beat for you.
Will this ship ever reach the shore? Because we need solid foundations. And I need you to see that the dirt on my hands is from me planting seeds, in hopes that we will grow.
Are we a flower that sprouts on a warm day in the middle of winter?
Right place, wrong time.
And as I read between these lines, maybe it’s my ego holding you for this art, not my heart.
Maybe you were right.