Divine.
He was so divine in my eyes,
but he controlled me in the eyes
of others.
His words were far too
harsh for the
epithets of my soul, yet
I listened and let them
label me.

His hold over me
was divine.

His words were
divine with a power
of control
I'd never fallen under before.

It's what I knew.
It's what I understood.
He was my culture,
his words were my cultivation,
and his abuse was my apology,
striving for that of which
I couldn't control,
striving for that of a false dream
that never would happen.

It couldn't,
not when the fiber of my being
offered up no escape.
Divinity was his, and
I was his divinity.

My whole life
I have seen people walk outside
and say " oh it's chilly out here"
As if the observation wasn't entirely evident
To me...
Who is also
Outside.

Well,
I had an interesting thought today.
There is no point in your LIFE
that you'll be colder than AFTER.

He wasn't looking at my eyes ,
              so I took his.

Pretty little pools...
       marbles of sight.

I threw them in the trash,
        his life dirt trodden looks...

Messed up thoughts, and the words that intoxicate you are tangling in your mind.
And your eyebags and hoarse and unmelodious voice,
And your smiles that lasted for seconds you can count with your fingers.
And your lonely feeling, cold as the freezing village.
Your ideas of love are dying,
An perspective of the world is changing,
Just like the four seasons,
It's quick to change.
That thing called emotion and that
Thing called empathy.
Deviant, and no more trying to reach.
Sleeping in a lucid dream, a horrible one
Wasted out breaths and dumb headache
Ugly laugh and sensitive tears.
It's too boring if you commit suicide
So, goodnight, sweetheart