Salt And Ink

Bunch

Take the bunch.

Yes, that bunch.

The bunch of wild flowers

Wilted flowers

Withered flowers

Worthless flowers.

The bunch of untold guilt

Of unfelt emotions

Of unsaid words of regret

Of unstrung chords of grins, laughs and tears.

Of undying love

And dead words of sympathy.

The bunch that mended

Your broken bits together

When the dreary sands of the past

Or the misty veils of the future

Smothered your writhing soul-

Yea, it mended you back to whole.

The bunch that fixed your biggest flaws

Like when you lied in front

Of your uncle, perched

Upon the edge of the

Hospital bed;

A bed that was about to

Forever become his.

Forever belong to him.

Or what was left of him.

Said he,

Voice choked with a life's worth of tears,

"Will I live?"

And you,

You with your years upon years of lies

Had only to think but a second

Before spilling out just another.

Another of them. The lies.

Another stab in the dark.

It was only a matter of moments

Before he fell apart.

And you sobbed by the fire

Beside his throne, his pyre