Wildflower

the strums of a guitar have many meanings,

bitter ones that leave scars on your perception

yet still important reminders.

a reminder that things will always fall apart,

that time will break the heart

and that you both will let go.

if july never came,

our embrace would be endless

now those ideas are behind me

as i have tried to forget.

why should we have to be reminded?

i know that you love me

i know i love you.

the strings turn from whispers to cries

their cries.

in the back of my thoughts

bound by the delicate chains of love

fearing caution

like the flower who wilts in the wild

was it my fault?

do my actions prevent us

from boarding the train to a future with each other?

would you take it back?

our lives

a blur of haste 

moments vanished in an instant

you weren’t as different as i

with joy

and unchained

the blood you wrote,

forever stained on my clothes

for everyone to see

a reflection of my unforgiveness

the thought of them

i can not seek to find new love

every touch from my attempts feels

as if it was hers.

you never meant for this

so I never told anyone.

 Was it my fault?