Comments about Elaine Holt
He Loves Me Not.
The wind lashed upon my face,
as he walked to me with a certain grace.
He held my hand for the first time in a while
and gave me a sad little smile.
It was smile that his eyes,
had no hope to disguse.
His hand on mine suddenly tightened,
in fact, so hard that I was frightened.
He shoved his free hand deep into my chest,
and retrieved a organ, in fact the best.
He looked repentant, as if commiting a sin.
He through it to the ground, it shattered like porcelain.
And on the ground I could see,
Fragments of my heart beating for he.
My breathing ...