For every holes burned, similar patterns can't fill the fire.
For every tear through flesh, a mark of slight darker scars souvenir.
For the heals in bones, casted and nonetheless never the same.
Kindness and motives of old mouths words,
the alignment my darker days, baby,
healing is healing but I could never heals into what I was before I broke.
Hurt me, blood on fabrics and you'll see me
torn and
that's okay.
I'll grow back into dense forest, sprouting wildflowers and lush detritus,
summer rays seeping through the branches,
the wolves find home in me, garden of eden in little hell.
Thousand of years, forever, growth takes it's sweet time, baby.
I might never find the shards you took from the breaking going on inside me but
now I'd inline them with gold, gold, new flesh, a new existence God would've like to create himself, in the place where you would've seen cells that's supposed to blend.
I won't be the same as you broke me further into shards, never dust, I'm making amends to the mess you've made.
