Pretty,
You are.
A beauty of gold
That shines afar.

I know
I stalled these feelings
So large.
Sewing my heart
And hiding my scars.

But now
I know the truth as is.
I would give my soul
For a little kiss.

And now I pray,
To the lord above.
Give me your hand,

And let me love.

A note to nature ,
Blooming in scenes.
Comfort in quiet,
Enriched in peace.
Leaving me silent
And blind from greed.
Clueless to violence ,

Finally at ease.

No.
Not again.
My heartbeat stops
And comes to an end.
Lord.
It’s the end.
A flower once nourished
Now withered instead.
Nothing.
Blue feelings instead.
Imbalanced inside
As I hang by a thread.
Hm.
I’m hung by a thread.
Cut off from stitches
That helped me to mend.

As now I hang down,
In the blues of my head.

I am no good.
Not the look of light
And ‘beauty’ that I should.
You say this once ,
Now twice in fights.
Saying my body
Is all but nice.
Fine.
I am so good to despise.
Not the look of woman
That you need in sight.
But that’s alright,
Your mind has fled.
To dream of a woman
Of ‘beauty’ in bed.

Am I,
Not enough ?
The hurt is bitter,

Your words are tough.

Is she ,
Better than I?
Your little angel,

The apple to your eye.

But me?
I’m a mess.
A child of stress ,

You love me less.

And her ?
She’s your whole life.  
Living in your arms ,

Letting me die.

But alas ,
No need to shout.
Your actions speak louder,

Than words from your mouth.

You wear and compare,
The things I bear.
Sorries of none,
Pretending to care.
Scared to share
What you have of me.
Critical of others
That fail to see.
The parts of me
I tend to hide,
You make them scream
Until they die.
But i'm your truth,
And your my lie.
A friend of fake

Is no friend of mine.

My fault,
And only my own.
That's what you say
In your dim dark tone.
I pick up the phone,
Shaking with rage.
You have my senses
Locked in a cage.
But I stay,
And fray,
For you know best.
Studying my words,
Like an upcoming test.
Taking my heart
To put it in rest.
And that is something,
I deeply detest.
Yet I still
Stay,

For my mind has reset.