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Jan 2013
mirror mirror, i  fooled you all
felt you, feel, before your very fall
i wrote your name with upon my skin
let you feel the blood within
and with my tears that fell awry
it wrote your name
against a white brittle sky
i wrote you of fortune, and misery alieved
my own private passion was worn upon my sleeve
i cried a thousand words from my bed
and in their ink they wrote
a story we'd wed
and it wrote how we'd founded a world untrue
it wrote how i was a knight not worthy of you
it wrote a nightime of lessons unlearned
and it wrote a passion of times untermed.
I cired from these tears
as i stabbed at my breast
these words i had wrote
so clearly across my brazen chest
under my left clavicle
under my heart
i wrote in the nightime -
'til death do us part' -
and i picked at the blood upon me
so honest and so true
and every drop
was blessed, with an ounce of you
for no matter no what
for no matter your name
i still would feel your loss
your rebuttal, your shame.
and i cried ink stained tears across my cheeks
and i wandered your loss
not in days, not in weeks.
And still as i write this with digital pen
i wonder if i am me not now, but then
my lovely, my wonder
my wonderous show
of how you showed me love so
long ago.
I sit with a pen and i wonder what to write
my ink blots are messy
and such a distaneful fright
that even i, as a woman
might seek light from the night.
I whispher sweet nothings to myself
as i cry with a teardrop so selfish, so rare,
and i mean as tho i cry, from a world, so selfish, so rare.
My nothing, my everything
my world end in sight
i long for you, play for you
each and every night.
Though i know you have left me
half starved, beaten and cold,
you have left my darling with a wiltering soul.
All i did was try to love you
that was never enough
and what might it take for you
to feel
my love?
Rachael Stainthorpe
Written by
Rachael Stainthorpe  Huddersfield
(Huddersfield)   
757
   Bill Hensley
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