Twas A B***h, I Used To LoveA Poem by IdiotekqueShe wears her scars like pretty rings, Holds them close like precious things ...She wears her scars like pretty rings, Holds them close like precious things, Left in light for me to see, I push her softly, ne’er let her be,
Demands are muted, never heard, The year left dormant, undeterred, She walks in sun yet longs for cold, Her bruised remembrance always told,
I rend my flesh to mend her soul, But kindness leaves my mind with holes, I cry “I’m here!” on ears sewn shut, My heart a bleeding little s**t,
Fleeting guises quickly pass, She thinks they make her less an a*s, My bridge, it burns, but never falls, Like endless kicks right in my balls,
Yet here I stand, a wounded fool, Her loving, caring little tool, Forever, damning even lies, Blah, blah blah, blah blah blah, dies. © 2011 IdiotekqueAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorIdiotekqueMakawao, HIAboutI'm 20 years old and I'm a writing student living in Hawaii. Writing is my passion, and I'm striving to break into the market doing something I really love. more..Writing
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