My Heaven

I know that you don't lie awake waiting for me anymore.
I know that you don't think about our past, present or future as much as you used to.
You don't cry out for me,
And you don't cry onto me.
I have stolen your tears.
My fate awaits at the hands of the Almighty.

My intentions were good but my actions were wrong.
I caused you unnecessary pain that I am now left to deal with.
My heart was and still is filled with hope.
But now I'm afraid it will spill out since my chest is bleeding in countless places.
It will spill onto you and onto your next "Prince of All Worlds"
And I will lie, covered in black sheets, stained from a wounded heart.
A heart not fully broken, but damaged enough to make my head go numb.

I guess I'll have to wait for the morning to come.
I am healed by my dreams, my only getaway, until the sound of morning comes to wake me from my heaven.
My waking day is not hell, but it cannot compare to my closure while asleep.
My dreams are medicine, my anecdote.
Don't be fooled, I'll lie and lie, stare through the window at a street light shining brightly into the night.
How unselfish of that light to shine onto the dark earth below.
I don't want my morning to come.

My head is spinning off into the fields,
Lost and out to grab onto anything that is in reaching distance.
I wonder if the world ever gets dizzy.
My eyes are not in focus.
At least I can still hear the birds, my only sense of direction.
Which brings me into the shade of a plant, so giving and so selfless to give me relief when I can offer nothing in return.
My tree is my friend, it gives but refuses my offers of gratitude.

My eyes drift into a seemingly endless rest and I am finally back into my heaven.
This is where I can take the weights off my heels and relax to the sound of my angels.
My angels sing a new song everytime I arrive.
A welcoming hymn as I step in awe of paradise.