I loved her and she broke my heart into a million pieces and inside each piece she took away a special part of me. An innocence and love that will be gone forever from my soul.
I loved her and she tricked me, while I was foolish she want smart. While I was foolish, she was strong. I tried, and I tried and I failed and I led my life down.
Loving, always loving, and ever hoping that she would want me back.
I was pathetic.
But from the ashes I have risen. Born anew, and born again. While she struggles with fetish and image, with fatigue and disdain. She lives the life of a degraded soul in the shallow surrounded by the faces of the betrayed. Surrounded by the insidious guilt of her heartfelt heartless actions, they look on, their gaze pierces into her naked soul. As she works, and she lives under the suboordinance of the fruits of the fathers son and into his arms like a still-born child through its mother blouse.
She waits, and desires, but she will never know. She may die, but she will live until one day her mind is set and all the great ages of her time have come to an end and they will ask her what she knows. She will remain silent.
And I will still love her. I will wish her a happy life through the best of times and a darkness I cannot explain shall wish her not death, for death would be to great of a release, but a special type of pain reserved from the actions of the insidiously insane.
My Poem.