|
Crumpled paper like cut-up birds
Blood-red paper like slaughtered herds
My ugly hands grasp soulful words,
Hold them softly on my heart.
Waiting, nervous against the wall,
My face is a forgotten doll,
Body goes limp, I start to fall,
Painful silence hurts like darts.
For you alone my heart will flutter,
For whom I begin to mutter,
You that makes my heart turn butter
That tears and rips my soul apart.
Handsome eyes in my direction,
Brief but beautiful connection,
You are nothing but perfection,
Simply put, a work of art.
Outlined reflection in my tears,
Heightening my nervous fears,
Like a burning heat it sears,
A heart attack I fear to start.
And as I hold my valentine
The scrawl of words, “Will you be mine?”
In my mind begins to shine,
I think that I have done my part.
You turn the corner, blood runs cold,
I wish to be the one you hold,
But now I don’t need to be told,
Because your smile was so curt.
Your smile, so handsome, pearly whites,
Try not to shake with all my might,
Swallowed whole by darkened fright,
My lovely dreams of us you thwart.
You laugh at the paper, tear-stained and wet,
As a friend collects his money from your cruel bet,
I now wish that we had never met,
Without second thoughts I part.
Crying, alone in the dark that grips,
You laugh so hard my poor heart rips,
I bite so hard, there’s blood on my lips,
As I hold my bloody, broken, bleeding, ugly heart.
 Morgana The Heartless · Wed May 23, 2007 @ 01:25am · 0 Comments |
