It's a cliche to stare from the window, but I do.
Slipping through time without thinking.
The flowers are indulging the ground with life.
I am not so candid as to tell you why.
Voices ruminate outside my prison.
I wouldn't be so sad if this was the end.
I'm not calling to say I love you or I've moved on.
But that when the knife in my heart twists.
The pain doesn't really move me as it used to.
I might give up, I might give in.
But the calls from another world, they beckon me to"Keep smiling".
Perhaps I never should have reached out.
So here I write and release to the world.
So that the death grip on my soul will be just released a little.
As this poem has seemed to do.
I realize this isn't the ideal scenario, being so torn up about nothing it doesn't reflect on me quite well. But time will march on without me. And the stars will reflect our pie in the sky hopes and dreams. And the knife will stay in my heart to remind me of you and your betrayal all those years ago. And the poison will reach the earth I walk on. And all those nice kind loving things you say, the beauty of it all will one day be lost on me. But for today, thank you for reminding me that I can resist the pain that's meant to make me human. Until the dawn comes, I beg you to sleep. And not look at my face.
Please, don't see my tears. They are only per-cursors to that knife being twisted again. And yet, part of me desires it be twisted again so that I may see just how long it will take before I destroy this thing called "Friendship."
It is as it is written. Irritating to write it in tho, poems really shouldn't be written selfishly. It's just an experiment.
