INNER KINDER COLLECTIVE Healing through Poetry

  Then she said it was his fault. That he had been selfish. His heart couldn't take the pain her words had inflicted. How could she say that. The words replayed over and over. A record player broken. All he ever wanted was a reset button. A way to change the lenses over their eyes. To be able to disregard the past and realize the person he had become. Realized this person had reached altitudes that spanned beyond the memories they held. Like a caterpillar. Once ugly and small, now soaring in the sky with such blinding beauty. He just wanted her to see it. No matter his opinion, theirs will never change. A pounded thought is the only thing left.  It's all my fault. Pictures from https://www.google.com/search

 It's in the eyes. The way they sparkle. Pieces of the sun imbedded in his soul. Burning whoever dares to look. The way they squint. Creating wrinkles of age and adoration. It's the way he looks at you . It's on his lips. The ones that caress the body. Cherishing every groove and bump. The ones that taste the sensitive fruits. Memories now imprinted on his breath. He's the dream. The one written down so the mind won't be able to erase. A dream of truthfulness, imagination. Of joy and love. The one you force yourself to fall asleep to every night on replay. INFINITE happiness.                                                  Why wallow in the darkness alone, when the light                                                ...