i hate to be condescending, in a way that i do sound condescending, when i try to hide these feelings that howl like raging winds inside of me. i pretend as if nothing is wrong and just walk on. even as i take small steps, it cuts thru me as if i were stepping on a broken mirror that reflects a broken self.
pity, that my heart, once healed, is scarred again. tears have run dry from these eyes. they weep for someone who is not there.
she runs her fingers thru mine, as if we would never touch again. i could still smell her sweet perfume as it leaves a mark, an indentity on my skin. her eyes that speak a thousand words. she tells me a lie, but her eyes speak thru those lies.
staring at a blank canvas that i wish were stained with rages of red, hues of blue sadness, green of jealousy and envy, mute blacks of pity and hatred. but i hold the brush, and as i begin to paint, transparent lines of pain flows into the canvas of the mind.
her heart and mine beats as one, like it will never beat again.
her lips full of passion, like red apples on trees ready for picking.
her hands that sends warmth in my heart.
the touch i long to feel. but i would never see the face, nor hear the voice that lulls me to sleep.
and as the leaves turn into brown and begins to fall, so does the sky turn to grey. and it could only bring me the embrace in autumn's arm and the sweet winter kiss that touches my lips. how i wade thru the rivers of tears bubbling endlessly by the heart that hides a thousand pains....
pity, that my heart, once healed, is scarred again. tears have run dry from these eyes. they weep for someone who is not there.
she runs her fingers thru mine, as if we would never touch again. i could still smell her sweet perfume as it leaves a mark, an indentity on my skin. her eyes that speak a thousand words. she tells me a lie, but her eyes speak thru those lies.
staring at a blank canvas that i wish were stained with rages of red, hues of blue sadness, green of jealousy and envy, mute blacks of pity and hatred. but i hold the brush, and as i begin to paint, transparent lines of pain flows into the canvas of the mind.
her heart and mine beats as one, like it will never beat again.
her lips full of passion, like red apples on trees ready for picking.
her hands that sends warmth in my heart.
the touch i long to feel. but i would never see the face, nor hear the voice that lulls me to sleep.
and as the leaves turn into brown and begins to fall, so does the sky turn to grey. and it could only bring me the embrace in autumn's arm and the sweet winter kiss that touches my lips. how i wade thru the rivers of tears bubbling endlessly by the heart that hides a thousand pains....
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