He stained my heart like the reddest of wines...
with the tip of a pen so thin and fine,
he carved his name into my soul and will never let me go,
he shows no mercy and I lost all control.
...
My heart stops at your compliments so sincere,
I constantly dream of you being near.
You complain of not knowing me well,
...
I have loved poetry writing since I was 13 years old. I had so much to express as I had been through so much at such a young age.)
Broken
He stained my heart like the reddest of wines...
with the tip of a pen so thin and fine,
he carved his name into my soul and will never let me go,
he shows no mercy and I lost all control.
Rage and bitterness spew from my flesh
and my heart tears into tiny pieces of death.
He murdered my essence and left his intact,
I want my will to live to come back.
I am dead inside but yet so painfully alive,
this torment is something that he contrived.