The days of atonement grew strained.
Her purpose, her pleasure became my purgatory.
Her words full of lies, her lies full of passion,
She continued to vanish with my heart on her leash.
For my honesty and absolute love,
I was repaid with heartbreak,
A taste of questionable guilt,
And the vital notion that a sleeve is no place for a heart.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
The days of atonement grew strained.
Her purpose, her pleasure became my purgatory.
Her words full of lies, her lies full of passion,
She continued to vanish with my heart on her leash.
For my honesty and absolute love,
I was repaid with heartbreak,
A taste of questionable guilt,
And the vital notion that a sleeve is no place for a heart.
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