Blueberries crushed on my skin,
Can it mix with your honey
if your sweetness melts within,
As these blueberries start off as strawberries,
in our fruitful, colorful love.
And the pain starts off as merry,
until the pain gives merry a shove.
And we create jam all over the place
and our jam is hard to erase,
with these bruises on my arms
and these marks all on my face,
with a pain held in my heart,
to only search for your once sweetness.
I think, once,
felt you were my weakness.
But you were only my cue to go,
The jam starts to stay permanent,
as it melts under my skin,
seeping into my heart,
letting me know it isn’t worth it,
to bare these scars,
of your unruly past.
To wear these crushed
blueberries on my skin
the pain will last..
but not on my skin.