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Devoid of all things, I am numb to the center of my being Eloquence, spider webs, elegant poison drips from my tongue Speeding through my veins to trip up the heart Once more, I find myself broken and bleeding Lying on the cold marble floor, skirt up, hair down Angry, crying, mascara streaked down ***** cheeks The temptation of the bottle too close to turn away I am nothing without my soul, and that’s long gone now Only the shell remains, and she’s got a cold shoulder to the world Nothing much matters anymore, but the darkness and I Of this much I’m sure, love’s a ***** boys. **** her before she ***** you. They’ll carry you to your grave, broken, and battered Heart stitched shut, riddled with bullet holes and Engraved upon it will be little scratch marks for every heart broken. Hell hath no fury, and Love doesn’t forgive, or forget. Ever. She keeps a scorecard, and she’s got your name on a target All we can hope for is that she’ll take pity on our souls. Maybe Remember that she has a heart too. I doubt it. The most we can believe in is ourselves.
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Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 2:53 PM UTC
Desolation Of The Heart (Acrostic)
Devoid of all things, I am numb to the center of my being Eloquence, spider webs, elegant poison drips from my tongue Speeding through my veins to trip up the heart Once more, I find myself broken and bleeding Lying on the cold marble floor, skirt up, hair down Angry, crying, mascara streaked down ***** cheeks The temptation of the bottle too close to turn away I am nothing without my soul, and that’s long gone now Only the shell remains, and she’s got a cold shoulder to the world Nothing much matters anymore, but the darkness and I Of this much I’m sure, love’s a ***** boys. **** her before she ***** you. They’ll carry you to your grave, broken, and battered Heart stitched shut, riddled with bullet holes and Engraved upon it will be little scratch marks for every heart broken. Hell hath no fury, and Love doesn’t forgive, or forget. Ever. She keeps a scorecard, and she’s got your name on a target All we can hope for is that she’ll take pity on our souls. Maybe Remember that she has a heart too. I doubt it. The most we can believe in is ourselves.
Acrostic....from the same bad breakup
melissa-hardie
Written by
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 2:53 PM UTC
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