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Enter Poem or Quote (Required) And I despise the flowers as a gift it's wrong to condemn something to death by giving it now your soul is patched for my heart (as a protest badge) and that heart was holding the walls of my being I was a tree which searched for the affined roots to inarm when the first birds started to fall something changed in our being I have shown you dead chickens and unknown wings and you have displayed your true colors so I painted a quiet photograph (out of a thin air) told you I'm narrow you said it is different, interesting I'm glad to entertain you while my heart dances on the rails now I'm parted to the degree of eagerness to fade in (out of the air) that pain matters my pain even though I wouldn't name it this way it's masochistic naming something the way it will beat your soul repeatedly (by the hands that used to hold you) the worst thing is when you're missing half of a soul and you paste the rest of it at the wrong backs that rose garden you promised me .. I'm not Ok it is ok to say it loud I have sore thigh from the collision with dusty macadam And finally, understand what you were telling me You don't love me I saw that When you broke my muscle And left me in bruises I finally saw it In the way, your eyes were trying to escape From tired emotions You don't love me (your touch clarified) You don't love me I know In your heart, there's no place for me (And you said that you kept me in a special room) - I have loved the other you, the one before - If you loved her, you would draw her near There's a different reflection in the mirror ireful visage it doesn't belong to me anymore it became autonomous a product of erased love while I was learning to walk in two, you were walking for too many and used me to overwrite your prolapsed ego because of love that wasn't refusing to walk by your tones you have erased me with another score the imported one find one person is out of date find that one person is out of our contemporary code of conduct we fu**ed someone else as The person didn't love us enough and we're loving her by fu**ing someone else (never had that need of proving my femininity by changing the rubbers) once it's gone love never comes back the one that does has some other face crumbled … mimicking the fairy tale of Hansel and Gretel by the practice of an incinerated heart, we learn Love
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