Instead of his love,
He hurt her deeply.
There's truly nothing but anything that
Can wound you deeply over the same lips
Which used to utter you sweet words.
What cuts you deep?
What cut her deep was knowing the knife than scarred her soul.
He owned the knife that scared her soul.
Knew the pillow that soaked her sobs.
He was her wound.
YOU ARE READING
Portraits of her heart
PoetryTo all poet enthusiasts, well this is for you. This lovely book is a third person narrative, and yes it's full of poetry whereby you find romance, somber, melancholy, hurt, ecstasy, love, affection, fondness, remorse and a whole lot more. So please...
