ripped

I was dormant for many seasons
Waiting to be cultivated
now as delicate buds have began to bloom
I believe it is the first breath of my spring
Though I feel the winter moon
But I see what I choose
Which Is why I only focus on you
It’s easier to forget about me
Im an after-thought
A plan 'b'
Not depended on
But kept around just the same
A form of first-aid
I’m your tourniquet
From his cuts
For your blood
But we never clot.
Now I’m left with these wounds
And I want to sew them shut
Still I bleed for only you
I know this is the greatest I have been
The truest my heart has pumped
But I cannot speak
When words fail me and I am stymied
Stuck on the details
Never knowing if I am the bigger picture
If this is the last breath of my spring
And tomorrow’s race never comes.
Then it will have been love
Though you say it isn’t
So my perception must be bruised.
And I shouldn’t rely on what I see
But on what I believe.