Worth The Fight
My battle to keep you is over.
A checkmate, without any closure.
My skin is bruised and beaten
and battered and scarred and weakened.
I can't shake the guilt
or the images of the life we built
in the days before the war,
before we weren't us anymore.
The world turned to ashes.
Memories of the past left like open gashes
from before the sky turned red,
leaving all our words unsaid.
I didn't know if you were fighting for or against me,
On whose side you'd be.
Or did you not notice the battle at all?
As the mountain between us grew mighty and tall.
Were the bleeding skies
visible to only my eyes?
Did the sirens sound in only my ears?
Did you never notice my silent tears?
Were you embarrassed by me
when my eyes met yours in silent plea?
Did the enemy force you out, or did you slip into the night?
Maybe you never thought I was worth the fight.
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