Sunday, August 5, 2012

To Her, From Her

The loss of pain, anger, hatred
Running through these veins, screaming to escape.
Maybe if she ruins this skin so sacred
She could stop blaming herself, maybe him, her, fate?

The will to do it representing courage?
The thoughts weigh down on her, sharp as a razor.
Leaving tiny milestones to pay homage,
The person in the mirror now a stranger.

Second time, the situation can be handled,
She lies, she knows this horror can no longer hide.
Her body, so perfect once, now just a shamble,
Her pillow, the one place her tears can confide.

Third time. Why? Where is the logic?
There isn’t any. The hate leading to it, the hate it causes.
If bought up, it’s a smooth lie, a sly change of topic,
She knows they don’t believe her, but no-one thinks and pauses.

The hurt, the pain, from her, to them,
To her, from them, to her, from her.

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