A dagger,
with which you rip my heart.
A hole remains,
from where I dig a grave.
For us,
I mourn,
as you proceed
to douse me in disregard.
Drowning sorrows,
drunken merriment,
a euphoric disease.
A crowd,
a gaze.
A stare so cold,
my body you freeze.
Frost bitten,
twice shy.
A reconciliation with apathy.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 4:06 PM UTC
A dagger,
with which you rip my heart.
A hole remains,
from where I dig a grave.
For us,
I mourn,
as you proceed
to douse me in disregard.
Drowning sorrows,
drunken merriment,
a euphoric disease.
A crowd,
a gaze.
A stare so cold,
my body you freeze.
Frost bitten,
twice shy.
A reconciliation with apathy.
Request permission to use this poem