every day repeats itself

like a book on the shelf

that i keep rereading

yearning for an answer

to my undying desire

the more i reach the more i end up bleeding

if i stain your hands red,

would it make you want them instead?

i don’t want to see you leaving

my bones are broken and sharp

as i try to heal they only do harm

why are you already grieving?

i bandage myself up

i drink again from that cup

through the forest i wander

you follow me there

and because you still care,

i tell you what i ponder

your face drops as i see your heart shatter

i can’t breathe anymore, and my words just scatter.

when does a man become a monster?