Red Days of the Left and Leaving

So many calendars have been recycled

since the day you snapped that first photo

of me unexpected and unsuspecting of the impact

a click of a lens could make

Pictures can say a thousand words

but they can also capture pieces of hearts

this was not something which I was aware of

but has snaked its way into too many nighttime ventricles

Every time another love finds the exit
I seal it shut with sap and nails, yet
you somehow find your way through my veining

You have not revealed your secrets
on how you knotted so instantly into the fibers of my being
if cutting out an organ would offer release
I would willing take steel to skin,
Yet this is not how to gain relief from the unrequited

Healing comes not from taking away
but adding to the tender, browning, undesired
train eyes to see the apple around the bruises

There is no harm in the heart as an offering
It seems easier to forget than to forgive
but that depends on where we are aiming the dagger
to forgive oneself for vulnerability is to become enlightened
perhaps finding the on switch should be our focus