Braveheart

My life is a series of pain

Often the first people I meet

Were always the first ones to leave

Like a wind that just passed through.

 

It still hurt, yes, I ask myself why

I am always placed in these fateful encounters

Going through the circles and cycles

Of betrayals and of putting knives behind one’s back.

 

Often the first cut is the deepest

A slow torture that cannot be easily forgotten

Replaying like a movie in my head

Haunting my very existence.

 

It is almost always hard to let go

Oh, I will always know when

It was time to move on

I hurts to always say the last goodbye.

 

I form attachments I know will hurt

Full of bruises yet still unbroken

Full of false hopes yet still faithful

Until I had to put up a wall.

 

So now you ask why I was slow to trust

Now you ask why silence was the only thing you got

Dear, there’s more to silence than meets the eye

It speaks in volumes the only little forgotten things that matter.

 

 

 

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