The Day Is New

A breth of fresh air never tasted so sour,

I bear the heaviness of regret on my shoulders,

Again with your games of deciet and lies,

Your words cascading down the mountainside, 

More like an avalanche than a waterfall,

I hide my face in hopes the monster will go away,

Yet here you remain.


With sparks and flames shooting from your tongue,

I find my soul scorched in the memory,

My heart unraveled from the mends I made.

My mind holding on to the music you played,

High pitched songs of destruction, 

A melody of isolation, 

With lyrics of depression,

And a chorus of "I love you."


I feel your hands around me like vines, 

Your lips on mine like a rose's thorns, 

Your seduction like an admission to a psych ward,

My mind is clay.


The flowers in the garden have never spelt so sweet.

The birds in the air flying away in fear,

They see the cloud that lingers around me, 

The monster under my bed is back, 

I can see him in your eyes.


The problem is I always wake up from my nightmares,

So your plan will not work.

I wake up with a fire in my soul,

A spark in my heart,

A smile on my face,

And the rising sun in the East.


Try as you might to peel away my happiness,

But you will find no sorrow. 

The bright summer day awaits in the distance,

Like a sweet ripe berry so close,

I can taste the relief from madness,

And what remains is my future. 


A future with laughter and love,

Friends and family,

Reason and understanding, 

And the power to get back up again.

Oh, how the day is new.

This poem is about: 


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