I have lived in the shadows
Of the melancholy lie.
One that I have weaved
So many times.
I sharpen the needle,
That has sewn together our souls.
I shall stab it into your heart
And watch your eyes turn to coal.
I will shatter your heart
As you have done to mine.
Leaving you burdened,
Tortured by this crime.
Tears shall stream down
Your monstrous face,
As you realize a demon
Has taken my place.
But,
All of this talk is just a fallacy.
See,
What I really want,
Is it to be,
Just you and me,
Imprisoned by our antagonizing lust.
Never being able to trust.
Yet,
In constant obsession,
Possessive,
Of our undeniable love.
Being that there is no hope,
I shall make amends with my scapegoat.
Just wishful thinking
From this little girl.
Wishful thinking
That makes others curl.
Still,
It is wishful thinking
That keeps me alive.
Wishful thinking
That makes me want to die.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
I have lived in the shadows
Of the melancholy lie.
One that I have weaved
So many times.
I sharpen the needle,
That has sewn together our souls.
I shall stab it into your heart
And watch your eyes turn to coal.
I will shatter your heart
As you have done to mine.
Leaving you burdened,
Tortured by this crime.
Tears shall stream down
Your monstrous face,
As you realize a demon
Has taken my place.
But,
All of this talk is just a fallacy.
See,
What I really want,
Is it to be,
Just you and me,
Imprisoned by our antagonizing lust.
Never being able to trust.
Yet,
In constant obsession,
Possessive,
Of our undeniable love.
Being that there is no hope,
I shall make amends with my scapegoat.
Just wishful thinking
From this little girl.
Wishful thinking
That makes others curl.
Still,
It is wishful thinking
That keeps me alive.
Wishful thinking
That makes me want to die.
