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Fingers that once healed now burn
Words once loving are now hating
Roses that were once red turn black
Vines crumble to ash
As any sign of love dissapears
New cuts
New bruises
Replacing the ones your soft touch once healed.
Now blood drips from the lines your fingers trace
Instead of new healed skin
Your voice
Once sent shivers of happiness through my body
Now grates my ears and my mind
My heart, that you once fixed and nourished
Is once again a baren wasteland.
 Daine Salmalin · Sun Jul 17, 2005 @ 09:17pm · 5 Comments |
