A bouquet of flowers, how symbolic
of a love that wilts away.
Petals turning brittle,
I watch it's slow decay.
A head that starts to droop,
a hunger and thirst that can't be quenched;
what once was lovely and fragrant
produces such a rotten stench.
Tossed out with the garbage,
a new bouquet fills its place.
The cycle then continues;
such symbolism in a vase.

"The shattered depths of her tortured soul were beyond the reach of a gentle love. She needed the passion that burned with a fire so fierce and complete in his eyes that there were no places left for the shadows of her past to hide. She needed to be kissed with such savage hunger that her breath escaped her and her lungs burned from the lack of air; her mind becoming incapable of coherent thought from the dizziness and excitement of it all. As she whispered his name with pleading repetition all others who had come before him faded entirely from her existence but for the reminders to be eternally displayed on her skin. These parts of her he loved even more intensely; the feel of his hands and lips as they brushed across the memories on her skin cleansed her defeated soul and brought it roaring back to life. She needed to be loved like this; so thoroughly and intimately and profoundly that every fracture of her soul was filled to the brink and all of the broken pieces of herself were forgotten in an instance. She knew nothing in that moment beyond their love and wanting for one another. She knew then that she had been saved."

{This is a work in progress, still needs some retouching}

She was a lonely child, forgotten by time,
who grew into a woman plagued with a broken mind.
She carries the burdens of another one's crime;
keeping their secrets at the expense of her soul
while wanting for the day that she will be whole.
Her lips still tingle from the taste of their sin,
though faded are the scars that once littered her skin.
But then what were they compared to the ones burning within?
For her wounds are eternal and they still bleed inside
keeping her running through darkness with nowhere to hide
And fighting battles each day no one else can see
For her enemies are the shadows of each memory.
Her mind is a battleground born from years of abuse
from a love that was hateful with ugly words so profuse
that they cut deeper with their edges than any blade could
and hurt for much longer than any wound should.
There were no bandages for the anguish, nothing to heal
the depth of her pain from the cold, verbal steel
and the hollowness she carried from the innocence lost
was the price to be paid; yes her soul was the cost
With their vile words and their cold touch a constant stain she kept seeing
it became too exhausting to pretend her well-being
was anything other than a perpetual fall;
her existence the proof that time doesn't heal all.

Your words of wisdom are just the ramblings of a fool,
stop trying to play the victim using me as your tool
then switching up the story now that you've been caught;
we're both living with the consequences your actions have bought.
For so long I let you drag me down just to make yourself feel higher
while you acted like I was beneath you, unworthy of desire.
Oh how you tell me that you love me then spit lies in my face,
this love I held so sacred turned into such an ugly disgrace!
Need I remind you of all your secret shame?
No? Then stop acting like this is somehow just a game!
You want to weigh the pros and cons? Well here are just a few:
years of my life crying over the pain you put me through!
Years of your lying and sneaking and acting like a boy,
all of these years of you treating me like I am just another toy!
For too long I have handed myself over to your neglect,
for too long I suffered from all your disrespect.
You want to say that this separation has changed you for the better?
But you're still the same person right down to the letter!
It doesn't even matter now, does it? It's not worth the fight,
so go on and tell your stories; whatever helps you sleep at night.

Oh beautiful star
  how you shine upon them
  captivated by all that you are
  they lose sight of themselves
Oh beautiful star
  so full of your gloriousness
  they can't see that you're marred
  just like the rest of us
Oh beautiful star
  so high above us all
  but your beauty, it scars
  it's dangerous to love you
Oh beautiful star
  keep shining on brightly
  you will always be a star
  and we're only human

A porcelain doll of such perfection
  how they love your skin so fair
  and the depths of your dark eyes
  and your long and flowing hair
What an adored, beautiful angel
  truly the perfect porcelain doll
  but on the inside you are hollow
  there is not beauty there at all
A porcelain doll of imperfection
  with beauty that lies skin deep
  there adoration of you is a
  misconception
  a tragedy for which I weep
For I know that you are no angel
  that you have fallen far from grace
  you are just another devil in disguise
  with a perfect porcelain face
And when that porcelain shatters
  they still refuse to see
  all the cracks in your character
  that are very plain to me
A perfect, porcelain goddess
  an ever radiant porcelain queen
  how they worship the mirage of you
  blind to the truth that I have seen

Was it love?
Is that an accurate description?
It wasn't enough;
we couldn't hold it in our hands.
In my heart it was merely sand,
imprisoned in an hourglass
escaping through the holes you punctured with every betrayal and broken vow,
yet you say let's fix it now?
Duct tape can't fix a broken love,
can't mend a heart that never felt enough,
can't fix the broken promises and shattered dreams;
there's not enough thread to mend these seams.
I was a china doll until I shattered,
cold and fragile, if your word mattered,
but you only knew how to warm the bed;
you didn't care to warm my heart.
Still wonder how it all fell apart?
Yes we thought we had forever
but even if I can be glued back together
love tarnished is just not good enough;
but again, I ask, was it even love?