June 4, 2008
A shadow of a former me.

Sweet, innocent reflection of what used to be.

Now, it's faded.

Leaving me jaded.

And I miss it so much.

I remember it never used to burn when it could touch.

Now, I'm just cold.

Dark and hateful is this blood stained fold.

Holding on to what was left.

A broken heart is what I kept.

Tangled up.

And oh, so beautiful in the choices of gossip.

This is no reflection of what I assumed.

It's a silhouette of a little girl who's doomed.

And I hope she lives through it.

But, I'm afraid to admit.

She didn’t.

He holds on to what is left.

Her little broken heart is what her love had kept.

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