Curses to that boy.
For spoiling you; leaving a dent
For taking your energy
For leaving you spent
How dare he think he could keep you to himself?
For months on end
Until I didn't recognize the beautiful you
You were covered in a cloud of him
Curses for that boy
who cursed you
because why else did your eyes so blue turn a pale grey?
if you were not used?
Cursing myself because I befriended him
so I can see in his eyes the sadness he feels
and he's regretful
but he's not
because he doesn't want that path
the one of guilt so strong
where you're hanging on the edge of the crack
and the only rope is to right your wrong
but you both know
you wouldn't take him back
And there are real curses.
If not, then why did that lady who looks so lovely
have such a tragic story?
Cursed by time for the older mother, soon gone
Cursed by disease as her mother departed -
no match for her cancerous beast.
Cursed by fate.
As she made soup for a queasy sister.
Such a small hint, a short phone-call
And she arrived to greet the deceased.
And she was foredoomed to relent her peace.
Curses to anyone who has wronged!
I should think.
I hate how there are two sides
Because then I remember how I used to love it all
And I'm afraid
of that love resurfacing
And I'm afraid
that I am verging on witch-hood
And I was raised never to curse
Lest I become the devil at its worst
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
Curses to that boy.
For spoiling you; leaving a dent
For taking your energy
For leaving you spent
How dare he think he could keep you to himself?
For months on end
Until I didn't recognize the beautiful you
You were covered in a cloud of him
Curses for that boy
who cursed you
because why else did your eyes so blue turn a pale grey?
if you were not used?
Cursing myself because I befriended him
so I can see in his eyes the sadness he feels
and he's regretful
but he's not
because he doesn't want that path
the one of guilt so strong
where you're hanging on the edge of the crack
and the only rope is to right your wrong
but you both know
you wouldn't take him back
And there are real curses.
If not, then why did that lady who looks so lovely
have such a tragic story?
Cursed by time for the older mother, soon gone
Cursed by disease as her mother departed -
no match for her cancerous beast.
Cursed by fate.
As she made soup for a queasy sister.
Such a small hint, a short phone-call
And she arrived to greet the deceased.
And she was foredoomed to relent her peace.
Curses to anyone who has wronged!
I should think.
I hate how there are two sides
Because then I remember how I used to love it all
And I'm afraid
of that love resurfacing
And I'm afraid
that I am verging on witch-hood
And I was raised never to curse
Lest I become the devil at its worst
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