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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 05:47:04 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 47575
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Untitled
[time] => 2004-05-14 23:57:15
[hometext] => I don't know if I am done with this or not. If there is more I'll repost. For now I'll leave it unamed as well.
[bodytext] => I'm sitting on my bed and theres nothing left to fake. Kinfe in my hand with demons in my head, and it's more than I can take. Said you were leaving so I cried myself to sleep. But my heart didn't break until the day I couldn't weep. For all the times I shined, maybe now you'll see that I was weak. I try to explain though I really shouldn't speak. And need I remind you we've been through this before? But I guess you drew a line and headed for the door. All I ask was it worth it to hurt me like this? I mean from my pain did you find some bliss? With no escape, only turbulance, my life now seems to be fillied with too much strife. And I'm left empty, screaming into a hole that was my soul. I never would have guessed your heart was as black as coal. Confidence of my incompitence convinced that I always fail. No words seem to work and my love is left to feel frail. Time seems slow for me; it's time to face the facts. Never seemed to care about the way your lies impact us. I'll just sit and cut myself into oblivion; as my heart turn hard and cold as obsidian. [comments] => 12 [counter] => 208 [topic] => 48 [informant] => Black13 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 36 [ratings] => 8 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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