See beneath her smiling eyes the lies she sighs to cry herself to sleep.  It’s a sickness, mental illness, and she’d probably be safer in a padded room far away from anyone who could love her, unreachable by those she could hurt.  Her kiss is venomous and her touch of leprosy will send one spiraling into the abyss of no return.

Remember when we use to sit and stare at the moon and I’d swoon at your voice, like velvet or milk chocolate, dissolving, melting into you because with you so near there was no world beyond our fingertips and touching lips.

She sits rocking back and forth (back and forth) back and forth as though the rhythm holds her pieces together.  If only you could see the web she’s weaving inside her brain to try and stay sane even though her own thoughts are ripping at the seams, pulling her apart stitch by heartbroken stitch but she sits on the floor rocking back and forth (back and forth) back and forth as through the rhythm holds her pieces together.

It was a fairytale of ancient books, scribbled in a forgotten language that only you and I could read.  Girl meets boy, boy loves girl, girl bleeds and boy sees and their two haves become whole.

But little did she know that he was wrapping himself within her heart and when he’d at last depart…

…she’d simply fall apart.

Tagged:  prose,   words,   yds,   featured,  
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