His words repeat inside my head,
even as I lay in bed.
Like sand paper upon thin glass
his voice is death done by brass,
because it turns my heart to lead
that he can’t see the tears I shed.
Because the attention I seek
is enough to kill the meek
inside my heart so that it fought
for his looks which I have sought.
The only thing that makes me weak
Are his blind eyes when I speak.
He touches me but it won’t last
even though I hold on fast
he slips through my hands like a dove
every time, though I’m in love.
I know he’s not inside my past
but I’m still hurt and aside I’m cast.
He speaks and my mind adores but fights
against his confusion which kisses and bites.
The strings of my heart tangled so tight
so that the beating core sees no light
and yet my veins still dream of the sights
of how our hearts will fly with kites








