Skin

Walking on eggshells, paper thin,
    Painted with traces of ivory skin.
The tender hearted dare to step
Over the footfalls that have been made-
These liars paths were spun from heartstrings...
And with tracks of tears were laid.

And when you leave, leave for me your silhouette;
Paint it on the wall so I'll not soon forget.
    Although the feel of your skin can never be replaced,
Perhaps a final memory can leave me at peace.

These paper-thin hearts ignited with sparks,
    And ablaze, set our skin with a glow-
In our love, we could never be made to believe
That betrayal might loom underneath that glowing shroud-
    That skin would tear so easily.
We could be made to see, were we not so proud.

Our hearts were not stone, only clay,
To be molded into what we thought we wanted;
    Fingerprints ingrained, from flesh to soul, skin on skin-
Like the sweetest wine, we were left wanting more,
Praying each time that the aftertaste would not be so bitter.

The knowledge of good and evil was never good enough,
Not when you were left knowing there was far more to learn.
So you will keep welcoming the pain, hoping that someday
    Your skin will heal

And all the scars will fade-
    All your hopes will have been made-
          All your promises fulfilled-
              All the liars tongues will still-
                That your clay heart will feel-
And all your skin shall heal.