Wounds

It could be the turns that lead us apart,
The stones that hit you hard,
That last lingering of our fingers,
Maybe the opinion of the singers,

For the turns I never took,
I'm impaled with this pain,
The pain of looking at you,
Over and over, after so long.
Of the darkness in your eyes,
That scream at me,
Making me cry, making me wonder.

For the turns I never took,
Why am I to blame?
For those turns I'd never take,
Could we ever be the same?

Could it be the words I never said,
Or the words said too much,
For the truth behind papers,
So much for these expressions.
Expectations and decisions,
All leading to false conclusions,
Could you look in my eyes,
The truth that follows here,
For my intentions you witness.
Blood shot and wet, crying for you.
For this pain is too real,
Left mewith this slap on my face,
Overshadowing the truth in my eyes,
The love in my heart.
You fail to see,
The goodness in me.

Unintentionally hurting,
Those apologies I was searching.
Hung by the hatred in you,
Erupting, exploding, igniting.
This pain, this pain is too real,
For these wounds will never heal.