I stand not for your smile, your heart, your love.
No, alone I stand, atop my molten-cool center,
Winding down after my heart bled torrents.
Created are these; Emotional, scarred track marks.
Dormant I've lain, hiding my festering addiction;
A passenger of dark, masquerading through the light,
Sun-scarred eyes refusing to see; Refuse the pattern.
Waiting out storms; Dry I stand, remote.
The fire warms, but the water beads, running.
Pouring down my soul's bullet-proofed window;
A stifling reminder of all that could have been.
Unquenched thirst; The longing, the anticipation.
Even with open windows, it's still nothing but drops;
Bolt by bolt, Chain by chain, break down the door,
Surrender the fears, the loathing; Cold rain stings.
Lightning breaks right; Tearing the night, shamed.
The storm seeps, the open wounds, painful reminders.
The rain I begged for and storm that I had sought;
These scars still bleed from your tainted touch.
No longer can I know, I'm conditioned beyond repair.
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