Here I lay in my self designated grave
Hope so far fetched it seemed
My tears so colourfully laid upon my face
On my lips they swooped in with a bittersweet taste

As I let out a sigh 
A couple of deep breaths it took felt like deep strokes 
I was choking
In my tears I was soaking 
My palm itching it can only mean blessing but let the old skin shed first
I'm a wounded soul but no sign of an outburst 
Classy I know 
But why do I feel so heavy? 
Everything sweaty, eyes all teary 

Skin swollen, scars on I never bargained for permanent marks
And here lies the *bridge I said I would cross when I got to it*
Although I can't seem to bury the hatchet
As the past and it's burdens refuse to be swept under the carpet 
Talk about resilience and persistence 
(Wish my lovers carried the same traits) 
But oh well atleast something gets to flow under the bridge 
but like tides they keep rising and getting stronger
"spill the tea already" the silence has been way longer... 
than I 
anticipated or not
 My perception couldn't have been wronger

So there I stood on the alter of my own fair well as I plead with my dear heart
Unshackle these cuffs
Shake and break my fear
Tackle these conundrums
As I lay on a stack of my own lies 
Far away from home  but I swear I heard something move from my dad as I let out a silent cry 

What kind of ties do I really share with the one that conceived me? 
That she can never see
 let alone feel my pain
But then again I've been told I carry it so well 
Although I wish I didn't have to carry it at all... 
Felt like jesus as I was crucified... 
Left right left where do I turn? To whom do I turn? Do I leap? do I cross? but every body been crossing me. 
They said I'm too kind 
They surely know not of me I'm a snake that bites it's own tail. 


By A. Zoya