To be crossed with 3 paths of
love.
lust.
and death.
a person should know which answer needed to be said.
she loved him.
With her heart and soul but yet it felt so cold, in a world so alone.
She loved him.
With every piece of her.
From her thighs to her hips to her stomach to her chest and the heart that beats in it.
with the lungs of air she breathes.
He was away.
Away from her hold.
To touch.
To reach to breathe.
To feel any kind of closure she wanted to keep.
He always pushed her away.
Feeling broken.
As her face hit the floor and shattered into millions of pieces which uncovered her flaws.
She fell.
She crawled.
This wasn't love.
Love where butterflies see clear as day as in visible rays that touch her skin
And made her happiness grow.
Instead of sun it rained.
And the cuts got worse.
Deeper everyday.
As the raindrops turned into tears
that cried a river where her love
sailed away on a surrender lifeboat
To the end of the waterfall where he shattered
In a million pieces that she used as a mirror
to see his face in her reflection.
He's apart of her.
He hurt she hurts but she's really the one who feels the pain
He would be the death of her.
Worse than a blade some one carves their mates name in their skin
A knife that cuts deep on the flesh of the living
Piercing someones skin
though she is not shattered
or ripped in tiny shredds of paper
shredded in little snowflakes
Of cold bliss on lonely nights.
I am broken.
And he is the reason i break.
