I see you,
And I hate what I see.
The scene so horrid, so pitiful.
I could leave,
And the air would stay untouched.
But I cannot leave,
I cannot vacate the mess you have made.
For my feet are stuck to the ground,
Glued there by a thread between my soul,
And yours.
Not destiny,
For fate spins it's own thread,
And this string was wrapped around you by my hands,
And wrapped around me by yours.
I hold the scissors,
But I do not cut.
And though I hate what i see,
I love what I look at,
What's I look in to.
Beating,
Struggling to escape,
Yet trapping itself in,
Is your soul.
I do not run,
I do not hide,
I do not reach out,
For you have already rejected me and yet pulled me closer at the same time.
I can only hope.
Hope that you will set yourself free,
So that I can wrap all this thread,
All this string I have been spinning,
Around you,
And you, around me.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of My Puzzled Heart
PoetryIt's a collection of my poetry. One of the main presiding topics is the idea of darkness, but there are also other things that are happier. I don't really know what to say other than that. Oh wait. My book is totally AWESOME and you should READ IT(l...
