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But, see, I speak to angels.
April 18, 2013
You take your turn
You pack your punch
You leave your scars
You turn and run
You leave me hurt
You leave me broken
You ignore the cries
You think you win
But it hurts you
It leaves you sore
Your conscious begs
Please, no more
Yet again and again
You return to me
And make your mark
To feel better
My skin is not
Your canvass of pain
You may not
Abuse me farther
I know better now
Know this won't end
And I must depart
Goodbye, my friend
© Tiana D., Monument, CO
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