It’s what they think.

they think we are lucky

they don’t know our story

they think we are happy

but they can’t see our hearts face

no one seems able to tell

that our hearts bleeds

and that the bells

that they hear ring are to bury our shells

they think we are lucky

because we are so close to the fire and it keeps us warm

they tell us to use it well

but what they can’t see is that

the fire does not just warm our feet

it’s burns our souls and leaves us lit

to lead the next one to its Web

no one knows the depth of this pain

no one can tell just how long we have laid

everything aside and decided to just stay

because it is the price we have to pay

for the ones we love

no one will ever understand this

so in the comfort of each others brokenness we will confide

and continue to hide, the black bitterness that has made us its bride

not pride or ego has kept us

rather love and the people in it

who have left us

without warning us about this curse

have taught us

not to ever let you near the cactus.

Piece by Grace Sani | ©2017 Deliberate Scroll


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