Make Me Bleed

When he was twenty two he learnt acceptance. How the events of the past faded over time, and whilst they never disappeared, one could begin to live with them. Even though one had once done wrong, it didn't mean they would forever be wrong. What his body craved didn't make him less - a deviant, an abomination - and it was okay to give in to the free fall, because someone would catch him.

When he was twenty two he learnt forgiveness. Of others. Of himself. Actions and consequences of younger selves forgivable, irrelevant in present day. How what you thought you knew wasn't always the truth; simply a façade, a mask worn, not so different from his own. To move on, history had to be released and the slate wiped clean. Bend before you broke.

When he was twenty two he learnt that it was okay to be happy in a world which was broken. Happiness didn't mean someone, or everything, was better. More that they had clutched at a bright spark in a sea of darkness and held on. The sharp sting of pain, the hypnotic crimson of blood - they were fundamental to the contentment that he now felt; fundamental to his happiness. He learnt there was only so far one could repent, before it was time to move on.

When he was twenty two he learnt of love. For himself. For another. From another.

When he was twenty two, he learnt how to live.

*

You come to me in a clutch of pain
Of blistering heat and sorrows gained.

Upon my frozen lips you press
A promise of more and searing regret.

You think it's you; I think it's me
Both of us down on our knees.

You harbour hate, I harbour pain
The vice grip of a past we can't regain.

So do we move forward in our strife
Forget the wrongs that haunt the night?

One step forward, two steps back
The grasp of your hand the only attack.

The present lurks, I cannot stay
Release me from this world of pain.

You don't let go; hold me tight
Be the savior I was forced to fight.

FIN.