Out of love - 105!

Where do the waves go,
After they have hit the shore?
Are they home,
Or is it another struggle,
That awaits off shore?
---------------
I hope I’ve hid my scars by these soft flowers,
You see, just because my wounds are harsh and scars ugly,
It doesn’t mean you’ve the courage to see it all.
---------------
Love changes you, they said;
Flowers turned blue after,
They fell for the skies.
---------------
And then there came a time,
Amidst the insomniac nights
When a combination of,
Many somethings and little nothings,
Arise, arouse and play.
---------------
On my grave put,
Three and a half flowers,
One burnt,
Another about to be born,
And two which are contrary to each others being.
---------------
How beautiful is it,
To make peace with hopelessness,
There is no pressure of being hopeful,
No energy is wasted longing for a better morning,
It’s all dark and unbearably painful,
But, oh, isn’t this just so satisfying,
There’s no need to long for
Anything, something glorious, and nice.
This too is probably a form of peace,
Someday, this feeling might bring,
Some sleep and breath along.
---------------
You haven’t seen her stitches and wounds,
It’s best you restrict yourself only to the parts that she shows you,
the flawless ones of course.
---------------
One day,
When the flow of water
And wind the sweeps
Our memories,
That, day I shall be free.
---------------
You, deserve to be held
And, so you must always
Hold yourself warmly, firmly.
---------------
Look inwards before upwards
Be before being this
And lusting on that,
You’re whole,
But parts of you have become hollow too,
Heal, deal, accept, be.