It hurts
my heart
Aching for
her
What will
never be.
How do I tell
anyone
The secrets I
hold
Within
me.
Butterflies
form in
The pit
of
My
stomach.
Her smile
is my
Smile
her happiness
My
happiness.
I'm lost in a
mind field
One of love,
lust
Coupled with
anxiety, fear.
I'm trying to
let go
I'm
trying
To move
away.
It hurts
my heart
Aching for
her
What will
never be.
© Sia Jane
“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”
―Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
It hurts
my heart
Aching for
her
What will
never be.
How do I tell
anyone
The secrets I
hold
Within
me.
Butterflies
form in
The pit
of
My
stomach.
Her smile
is my
Smile
her happiness
My
happiness.
I'm lost in a
mind field
One of love,
lust
Coupled with
anxiety, fear.
I'm trying to
let go
I'm
trying
To move
away.
It hurts
my heart
Aching for
her
What will
never be.
© Sia Jane
“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”
―Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma