You
look me in the eye.
Searching for something
which is not there.
An answer.
Opening your lip,
sending an arrow
in which you carve with delicancy
to penetrate
something I can never give you.
My heart
The storm that fabricated
the lone space in which no passer can pass through
Yet your arrow ease thorough as if with purpose
intent on dispatching a message
It did.
It said three words
three syllables.
8 letters
I hate you.
For those words,
sliced me up leaving a bloody mess
which the naked eye can not see.
I send back something.
That the storm never let pass through
Something that never comes out of my lips.
In which wounds more then anything.
I'm sorry
YOU ARE READING
150 things I never said
PoetryA book of poetry as the title 152 things i never said to a friend or a stranger @Wishing_Angel made the cover. It's beautiful
