You with the sweet smile.
Looking anywhere but at me.
Wanting to meet your eyes just for a while.
Your eyes is always the escapee.

Your words are cutting deep in my flesh.
Your voice is surrounding me.
My tears of pure blood is fresh.
I didn’t want to see your reality.

You with the cruel smile.
Looking directly at me.
I never want to look in your eyes of hostile.
Your emotionless eyes makes me flee.

Looking deep into my soul.
Telling all the lies.
I no longer have control.
Of those cold eyes.

When my finger met the paper, in a brief love affair, it took my blood as a trophy.
Then the red droplets created a beautiful mess as they sank into the dead white wood.
It stung badly, and it continued to hurt as I went on a mission to find a bandage that
could keep the crimson art inside of me, instead of spilling it everywhere.
When I wiped the excess blood away I saw nothing, yet I was still in pain.
But what hurts the most right now is my heart, because just like I couldn’t
see the papercut, you can’t see my broken heart either, and it is bleeding heavily.
Because of you.
And I can’t seem to find a bandage big enough to heal the
hole you left in my dying heart.