Her Hate

Your silver smile fades in. The moist lips that touched mine, so define. My echoing heart breaking apart. The longest kiss, My sweet bitterness. The shivers down my spine, The watch on my wrist way behind on time. Inside a broken dream, a wishing well, in a hopeless seen. An empty thought, behind hate and pain. In my mouth, She cries Her body shrivels up and dies. Outside, a painted picture, love and laughter not long after she's away. Speaking voices of yesterday. Her earth never again steady, she was never ready to fall. To late to turn back, She feels the silence of those who talk, Whispering ghosts, with black eyes. yellow roses behind her lonely cries. She is armor, of stone But she breaks just as easy as bones. Heavenly voices follow long after, she is speaking of hate, She brings her self down to the end of her gate. She inflicts her self, She bruises her arms to show her shame. She has never realized she's the one to blame. How can so much hate be there? So much blame and no one that cares. Every night she cries inside her closet of hate, The hate that causes her frustration, debating, Lost in a heartache. He left her, He never loved her anyway, To this day, She will never know why? She refuses to see the truth, She's paid her own ways. She's lost in a place of hate and pain. Inside the closet, she will never find light it was broken down under the dark moon, She fell far, along with her gloom. She's doomed for life. She's stuck with strife. Nothing to seek for, Yet she always asks for more. The pain makes her feel strong, Makes her get along. She feeds off her open will, The joy and happiness of a Prozac pill. Still empty. Still hateful, tonight once again she will lay her beautiful head down beside his dead pillow. Written February 8th, 2002 © on Feb 08 2002 10:07 AM PST, Shelly   0 • 10