my misery is dressed in black;
something so void, something so slack.
he painted me in blue
and i accepted it without a single clue.
never did i think of my misery
even when the thorn unknowingly pricked me.
this is for the surreal animosity that i built up
and the vehement love that i pushed down.
my solitude is painted with his touches;
something i can't feel anymore, something that's vicious.
if what i felt was pure bliss,
then not even your touches can be amiss.
he was a sad beautiful -
his thoughts so sinful.
this is for my venomous mind
and his sinful heart.
it's cold and it's dark.
i just want you close.
i don't think i'll ever stop loving you.
please, don't leave me here
all alone
all by myself
in this lightlessness.
an ode to my misery; h.k
