She sits there on the phone,
A phone of memories.
Broken and slouched again,
Her love knows nothing,
Because she doesn't want it
Or maybe she does?
A flood of memories
From the phone of lies,
Like a blade of ice and fire,
Whipping and tearing away
At the restraint she has placed
Over her fragile heart.
She needs to know
But she is so afraid, so afraid.
Of the outcome that she sees.
Her mind's eye
Has never been wrong
And she hates herself for it.
She has to,
She has to hold on.
To the rope of pain she's using
To keep from ruining
The only thing
That matters anymore.
