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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Dark · #1748318
Secret stabs of pain written in prose.
I seem to hide my deepest of strength as I show you my worst of fears. Trust has betrayed me countless of times, as it throws it broken shards of thin glass at my abandoned soul. You haven't yet shown me the strength that you hold within, as you keep it in your tight embrace. I take your trembling hand that has bled with sorrow, with my fingers tainted with lingering disappointment. My beaming smile of sadness has brought you comfort, as your beautiful eyes of distress gave me drunken happiness. Meeting your hurt self has made me realise that my forgotten scars of embers which glow with roaring fire continues to burn bright. You are yet to blow away my pain as I light your dark heart to yellow. I will stay to be cut by thorns of roses so long as you stay to be struck by sharp words of stones that your loved ones will cast. My missing heart now belongs to your withering soul, till the pink petals fall to the spikes of grass of which we walk upon.
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