Any other day, any other person,
The words wouldn't cut through so deep
Funny how this reminds me of what Caesar said dying,
Et tu Brute? With a flash of betrayal in his eyes.
Ironically it hurt more than the boy who cared,
Now the roles reversed I know what he had to bear
Blessed with a tinch of guilt within me,
Suddenly the idea of hurting didn't please.
Had it been a glitch in my ear?
But I knew better than to tell myself a lie to hear.
The irrevocable part of me climbing to the surface,
Asking me to feel for this and a million other purposes
A warm brook near the boiling veins
Trailing down the paths that haven't been visited
A voice I couldn't recognise saying, 'thanks to Britney'
Must she be the one to hurt me?
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Vandalized Vesta
Poetry1168th day and she's still at the same place. Her whole life has been packed up with accusations of impurity and insanity. The tale takes a twist when a hypersexual teenager falls in love for the first time. She's trying to be normal, in a not so no...
