A Healing Heart

The final kiss from Red lips
make hearts break and
crumble like cookies on the

Water makes the eyes talk
from the inner soul, broken
drum roll, hear that
monotone heart beat
wounded with a bullet hole.

Blood drops leave trails of
thoughts; no home remedies
for meaningless memories,
only day-light is meant for
daydreams like night is for

Butterflies for dinner on a
balance beam make the mind
scream for a deeper river.

As I quiver in soaked
clothes, the sun still shines
through my black cloud.

My black and white world
was always in a crowd of
colors, all I needed to do was
look up.

Time heals all wounds if it
can be made to fly with help
from the whispers of the wind.

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