Unpublished
he took her heart
played with it
like words
laid her down
on blank sheets
until she bled
like a pen
inking thoughts
she opened
like a poet's mind
each kiss
a new poem born
of deceit
she lies
tattered
around the edges
a wrinkle of time
unpublished
in his book of games
bleeding from scars
of his hands
and hers alike
life becomes blank verse
she is heard
nevermore
Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2013
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