Exit Wounds

When it’s late and love is throwing rocks at your window,

Slip into your armor before you unlock the door,

Guard your heart against the jagged shards of despair,

For in the darkness, love can sometimes be unfair.

Their lips smell like poisoned bullets, a treacherous game,

Insecurities hidden deep in the closet, next to the Hennessy's flame,

The moon's tears echo in your chest, an unhealed wound,

Longing to cry in the arms of the one you love, entwined.

But that love, it has arms ready to strip you down,

Exposing you to harsh winds, ripping your safety gown,

Whispering "I love you" to shoot the guards away,

Yet it shatters you like fragile porcelain, leaving you to sway.

You bleed reasons, pouring like an open vein,

Deserving one more chance, you hold onto the pain,

Overflowing with burning poison, words turning venomous,

Barricading doors, cleaning up the mess, feeling defenseless.

In the arms of a stranger, you seek solace to weep,

Expecting his voice to embrace your pain, soul deep,

Guided by the voice on the phone, like syrup, so sweet,

Patience is urged, as time moves on with arthritic feat.

Hiding behind the voice of an unseen poet, you find refuge,

Even as he curses the world, he weeps in silent deluge,

Together, fighting the currents, waves breaking bones,

Afloat on a fragile boat, hopes crushed, dreams unknown.

Trembling, he takes one final breath, embracing death's embrace,

Leaving behind a message to exhale this world, find solace in grace,

For in that exhale, a new chapter unfolds, a journey anew,

Where the poet's voice intertwines, guiding you through and through.

So, slip into your armor, hold tightly to your shattered heart,

For in the fragments, there lies strength, an exquisite work of art,

Embrace the pain and let go of what's unjust and untrue,

For, in the end, it is your own self that shall carry you.