Bleeding Out

I’m bleeding out on the parchment again

With no one around to render aid

None near enough to even witness the moment

Those that could’ve helped have long since walked away

Left here in disaster wrought by my own hand

Tricked once more into believing

That I’d found something to share in

The beauty and the structure

Of the world I see surrounding

But as ever, I moved too quickly

So sure I’d found the answer

To questions I wasn’t even sure of asking

That I’d spilled my very soul

Without seeking truth in action

The mess of my own making pooled upon my feet

And the familiar weakness spreads

As I give up too much of me

And it falls upon my surroundings

Yet again I find myself collapsing under pressure

The emptiness inside leaves me weak and broken

Another mess to clean and another soul to rebuild