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BENEATH MY CHEST BALLS

You know I want you

And it’s not a secret I try to hide
I’m not an open book
Yet I can’t boast of many chapters
That are mine.
I bare my soul to you
With a thought of being with just you.
But it’s a lie
Like the many before this I told myself
It’s a false hope
Perhaps a deluded fantasy.
I’m blind enough to the bright signs
I should have known
But it’s funny ’cause it was never unknown
It’s a game I have accustomed to
A deadly game that need to stop
Once he came around and a tale began
Then he leaves and I break my heart
The desire to be needed and wanted has run off the mine
The unhealthy sacrifices need to stop.
I’m loved so much
Yet each time I forget
Seeking the one love that isn’t mine to have now.
I put myself out there and tarnish my own soul.
It’s like self harm and it’s unspoken
Yet I’m broken each time I’m stitched right back
It’s like a bird who doesn’t want to learn to fly
Finds the nest comfy enough not to leave.
I don’t want to say this time I’d change
Said that a thousand times
And done naught about it.
I want to grow
Grow beyond this mess.
Scattering hearts all round.
The heat is good
Yet it’s not healthy for me.
I want to fly
Fly high beyond the sky
I need to believe in who I am
I’m crazy with big dreams.
I’m a beautiful friend with flaws
I got scars that run deep
Just like everyone else
Yes I yearn to be love and wanted. ‘
I want to be the centre of someone’s world
But what about me.
I don’t love me enough
It bleeds but it’s true’Cause if I did I wouldn’t give out my self to everyone
Who skips my heart a beat.
I begin a new journey of self discovery
I don’t need someone to care about me before I know
I’m worth as much importance.
I don’t need to be deluded in thinking
Everyone who wants to hear my song
Yearns to be part of my melody
I’ve bared out my vulnerabilities too much
To a world of no black and white
I’m beautiful
I’m bruised
I’m scarred
Yet I want to move past that
I’m special too
And each second I promise to remind me of that
I matter and I got to matter to myself
Yes I’ve picked up myself this time
I’m cleaning the dirt
And I’m wiping the tears
I’m moving to a better place
Despite my bruises
My story is not a healthy one
But I’m learning now
The developing chapters will be better
It would be difficult but I’m willing to try
There’d be tears and anguish
Sometimes hope and Faith
But one thing I know for sure
God gave me a special gift
When I write, it comes to pass
And I’m holding on that to change my story.
No need for a perfect tale
All I need is my version of redemption
And it starts now
Once upon a time
There’s going to be an evolving me.
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By Abis Psyche

A young lady with a passion for anything and everything artsy. Painting with words is what I do best. The motive is not to create the perfect picture of emotions, thoughts and feelings. It is to appreciate those imperfect flaws and choices that will always make every story worth telling. My dream is that someday people will learn to tell their stories regardless. Stories heal, and they need to be heard.

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