Is it me that you lust for or just he who has more to offer, I could give you the rope to tie to my heart, that you would yank and pull for your own selfish needs, can’t you see how I bleed, what are you doing you crazy bitch, you leave me no soul left to stitch, up to these shoes that we drag while we walk down cold dark lanes, empty unforgiving... like you. As you grow weak I grow strong and when you give up I will move on…
For far too long I tended that garden with soft subtle hands, bayed to be broken and grazed with toil and frustration. I scream to the sky why won’t you die…
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