Piling up like a pillar
Stacking my sickness
The screaming moaning sorrow
It's subtle silks
Colors soft as milk
Colors you try to "Borrow"
But to weep is business
As I am a filler
To your endless void within
Your sulleyed lips
Spit sick knives
Cutting, dicing, carving me
With giddy laughter, that of glee
Our hard fought battered lives
She doesn't need my warring tips
For fighting lives in sin
Our battles aren't yet over
Your words fight wars alone
Your soft eyes ever watching
Falsened promises blinding
As my hardspun love unwinding
Your heartfelt pleas are touching
But I decline from whittled bone
My love doth left its lover
YOU ARE READING
Journal
PoesíaThis is just a collaboration of poems that I wrote to get me through the day sometimes. Dealing with heartbreak tends to be deep and unforgiving but this was the only way I knew how
