Vivian Posted July 11, 2005 Report Share Posted July 11, 2005 guilt by: Vivian I hope its horrible I hope you can't sleep at night I hope you finally realize that what you did was not right Your words shred my soul your lies break my mind you said you'd never hurt me and i thought you were kind now im sitting here frozen in disbelief your accusations make me want to weep i've never hurt you always stood by your side but now im bleeding with nowhere to hide you're always angry ready to snap and with your arm raised I wait for the slap expecting pain blinded by tears its inevitable you always reacted to my fear I hope its horrible I hope you cant sleep at night I hope you finally realize that what you did was not right... Dedicated to my roommate Bill Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Amerist Posted July 11, 2005 Report Share Posted July 11, 2005 Expectation is the least of the Furies, but guilt is her strongest vice -- and in her grip patience knows no bounds, a venom without reoun, that sets and waits and collects on the soul. In time all hurts take their due. By the time realization comes, and those fateful dreams awaken him at night and he finally turns to look back, be those eyes. Staring back: unafraid. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vivian Posted July 11, 2005 Author Report Share Posted July 11, 2005 ahh but he dreams of me sweet dreams complete with moans and he thinks of me massaging himself in front of me he says he loves me in his own morbid way but twisted is his affections return them i do not so in anger he tries to hurt me and in fear i cower wary of his actions Praying that one day i'll make my escape Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Amerist Posted July 11, 2005 Report Share Posted July 11, 2005 ...and I certainly hope so too. Wow, now that's impressive--in a scurrilous sort of way. I'd hate to end up in that sort of a position, ever, things get more ponderous when shutting the door doesn't lock the devil in the night, but for the devil on thy side of the door. In those eyes--there are dark places. In those eyes--where ominous visions walk, not silver screens and shimmering memory, the vapid reticence of a shriveled conscience. In those eyes--where hopes dissapear. In those eyes--where sulks twisted desire, may thy visage be reflected nevermore. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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