You are
Nothing but a
Whore, a
Liar, whispering sweet
Candy
Syllables into innocent
Ears, ill
Equipped to handle the torrent of your
Blazing
Eyes, your convincing lips, playing
With the
End of your cigarette,
Tossing
Ash, like stolen
Hearts, all
Over the cold
Winter
Ground, the cherry a lit
Ember
Burning like all the girls who never
Had a
Chance against you, as your fingertips splay
Onto
Their backs, your breath against their pale
Necks, soft,
Delicate, like tears that
Fall, the
Ash you left still
Aglow,
You’re a lost cause,
Burning out.
As hopeless as a dying star.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Ah the battered lover.
I have been here too many times to count. but as you compare those fallen ashes to lost hearts, remember yours is still intact. Despite whatever has evoked this anger, remember pestilence is the enemy of those willing to be sick. You mustn't let what one person does control your whole life. I'm very sure you know this, but reminders reset the mind.
I wish you peace. not because I am arrogant to think I can, but because i hope for you as i would myself.
The anger speaks to me. the metaphors a silhouette for bare unbridled hatred. Once this wound ceases flow, you'll look back upon the earthen remains of this brooding parasite, and remember you overcame him/her. And that will be your strength. Not the indignity you suffered at their hands.
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