Stolen Heart

Clutching fists fill the void in my chest.
There was love there.
There was happiness and memories of beauty.
The knife has long since removed my heart.

Burning tears, trails of red mark my tormented cheeks.
There was warmth there.
There was a sense of purpose and belonging.
The bloodied hands no longer pull at my flesh.

Broken dreams, voided history suffocates my soul.
There was a bond once.
There were two shared lives living as one.
The memories of your last words pry continuous at this open wound.

Death of my stolen heart lives forever in memory.

Who Am I?

Who am I?When the walls of self acceptance are crushed within our own hands,
When the shame of who are boils from our veins,
When the world we thought we knew no longer applies,
Who is left?

When one lives outside the box,
When one rediscovers that hidden life,
When the world around is no longer the same,
Who will emerge?

When reason and doubt no longer rule each day,
When a journey taken contradicts everything known,
When the horizon and the future finally converge,
Who can continue?

When there are no more answers,
When there is only self,
When the future is all that stands before you?
Who will survive?

When all that is seen, felt or experienced is reborn,
When life begins,
When all that is left are questions,
Who am I?