So, It's getting cold outside and I thought about some old poetry I wrote. Oh the lonesomeness of it all...
I wrote this one August 2008. Agh, young heartbreak, enjoy or not...no matter. Its all venting:
It’s the same for everyone.
His words used to be sweet
Now they are sour.
His kisses taste bitter.
His sayings used to woo me, Sweet, strong words from a street scholar
Covered in young lust and true interest:
Him for me and Me for him.
Now his smile eludes me,
His laugh that used to intoxicate me, now sounds foreign and rough.
The things I loved most about him, my heart has learned to hate, for its own protection.
Now all of the pretty wrapping is ripped away and there are just those sultry words
And me, here,
With those words inside my heart and they wont leave my thoughts.
So I am here exposed and confused.
I am hurt and I am angry, like only a woman scorned can be.
This is my burden to carry,
For wearing my heart on my sleeve.
But now it is there for the world to see, all of the scars and bruises: captured in its icy frame.
Cold, Dark, and solid, like stone.
Nothing else, no other man, can melt it, mold it, or break it.
In my biggest moment of weakness, it is made strong.
