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She knew he was killing himself.
A self inflicted murder,
Yet not a dramatic suicide.
Or something he took,
The opportunity to hide.
An honest person to any other.
But to him self, and often her, he lied.
He was oblivious to the quiet damage he had done,
And to each new wound he gave her.
She was but one lost soul,
And she had to wonder if perhaps,
Destroying her was his ultimate goal.
He couldn't see why she ached,
Why she didn't fit his mold.
All he saw was that she had turned cold.
And although it was him to blame,
It was something he could never,
Would ever honestly claim.
He was selfish man,
Yet professed his urgency to care
The whole time, totally unaware.
Ultimately he left her empty,
A quite hollow shell,
But she was freed from his misery.
She was freed from his hell.
I do wonder if she will heal.
And one day openly feel,
What it's like to be free.
As for now if you should see her,
She will surely look away.
Don't look at her, don't look at her eyes.
She doesn't want you to know what they say.
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Posted by IFeelTheBuzz on 2007-10-14 21:13:46 | Rating: | Views: 124
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And yes, I'm commenting on your writing using your profile =P This makes me so mad at myself....but I love it nonetheless ~Coy
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Posted by IFeelTheBuzz
on 2007-12-12 23:24:27
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