No road is long enough to walk.

No conversation is too complex to talk.

But this unlabelled and arduous journey must come to an end.

This heart can no longer pretend.

It needs to bleed out then be free.

Free from hope of a maybe or what could be.

They are now no longer prisoners.

Their lives can now open for new visitors.

Hello can be said someday when wounds have healed.

For now pretence can be evoked to keep the bottle sealed.

Emotions have feelings.

Feelings can only keep boiling till they hit their ceilings.

She would say she is sorry.

But she is not as it’s the right word for this story.

It’s sorry.

Poem by Sarah Martin @ sugaroc
Art by @artofdavidwalker


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