This is a poem I've been holding on to inside for a long time, but this is my first outlet for it.
You hide behind words and flat out lies.
Not even caring if the one you called beloved dies.
Hatred brings forth the blackened skies,
and with simple words spoken, the young girl dies.
In their head they held a fantasy,
a love, a life, a shining hope,
but with two simple letters,
comes crashing down reality,
breaking the soul into tinier shards.
She was a broken soul.
She was never whole to begin with,
but two small letters broke her even further.
When the blood left her face,
the blush upon her cheeks makes her dizzy.
The one she loved lead her on,
dragging her across shattered dreams.
They could never be satisfied until her face
wasn't the only thing the blood had left.
But she was a broken soul,
never whole to begin with.
Maybe he caused her pain to hide his own shards,
not knowing that together they could rebuild each other,
but it doesn't matter, it never did.
Nothing ever really matters
when you're holding the barrel to your head.
The wounds were open, slowly bleeding dry.
She was dying, faster then anyone,
and she was dying every moment.
Every breath in entered death,
every breath out exiled life.
Such is the fate of a broken soul,
never whole, never loved, never even held
by the one who brought her to the world.
But what did it ever matter?
With a simple squeeze of a trigger,
the soul is erased, but never missed.
Her absence, was never even known.