look.

January 24, 2011
By Anonymous

the tears burn like your fireous rage,
behind my eyes,







where you can't see
the words cut cleanly, like the sharpest knife,
into my scarred, acheing heart







where you can't see

the blows fall like the never ending rain of a thunder storm
onto my already battered body,







where you can see


if



only



you'd
look

you'd see all that you


do to me.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.



Parkland Book