Indelible


December 5, 2014. © Talon Truitt Cherry, All rights reserved

Still writing feelings on these pages somewhat in the dark.
How good am I lighting it?
Don't be discouraged you’re just reading from a bleeding heart.
How good am I writing it?

We miss a million instants,
Though everyone will scar.
Turning our fables into labels,
Just to show who we are

Under the paper I can still read all the words that I missed.
I'll forget them all, but won't forget this.

I know that love exists,
I hold it in my heart.
I'm metaphorically stable,
I'll never fall apart.

Lying under pages I write, and throw away,
there is a mountain of things that I may never talk about.
Underneath the paper are etched a million things.
This is what my stories about,
a million little marks that will never buff out.

I've tossed a thousand letters,
And changed my point of view
What might my fate have made,
if one mistake had not made it through?

But those things are all here,
some might not show up.
The same old routine where honestly,
I'm so sick of polish and buff

So I'm sitting right here,
with thoughts I drew up,
trying so hard to erase these things,
I always screw up!

Under the paper I can still read all the words that I missed.
I'll forget them all, but won't forget this.

I know that love exists,
I hold it in my heart.
I'm metaphorically stable,
I'll never fall apart.

Lying under pages I write and throw away,
there is a mountain of things that I may never talk about.
Underneath the paper are etched a million things.
This is what my stories about,
a million little marks that will never buff out.

I couldn’t wait to finally write this story up.
All the letters written on their own,
But there’s something wrong here,
Something so wrong here,
They’re not alone…

No No No No

On top of the old words,
Despite what’s new
Are the feelings I’m hiding,
Bleeding through!

Lying under pages I write and throw away,
there is a mountain of things that I may never talk about.
Underneath the paper are etched a million things.
This is what my stories about,
a million little marks that will never buff out.

So this is what my stories about,
took a million words just to figure it out.
Some here, some gone, or rubbed out
Even when ignoring pieces of the story.
This is what my life is about,
A million little words that will never buff out.