You shut me out and push me into the desolation of no-man's land.
Your cold shoulder pricks at my lungs with each breath I take in your malevolent favor.
You destroy me with silence and abandon me when I never thought I'd need you more.
Sadness crawls up my spine, poisoning my every nerve, as my consciousness drowns in the result.
My brain tips and rocks with the confusion between anger and depression, while my heart falls from the competing belligerence.
I beg and grovel to you, oh, sweet human, who I once called a soul; for fate and misfortune.
But it is too late. The decision has been cemented.
Such a beautiful aura of black starts to shimmer and dance treacherously in the excitement of attention, now being what listens to my pleas of grief.
It takes the place of your love, but creates scars in the place of happiness, and whispers hostilities to me as I somehow progress.
The cold may never be warm, but neither will it be freezing.
Even with young eyes, balancing on your hip, you still turn ill favored and steal what little they know of positive glow.
Left out for so long, I fear I will never feel the warmth of your allure another day.
Farewell my star-crossed friend.
Farewell to what I knew you to be; half of myself.
YOU ARE READING
Nothing Special...
PoetryThese are just some instances of my private life, thoughts, dreams, etc. that I somehow managed into words. And I'm now finally getting some of them off my chest. That's all. Nothing too Great or Interesting.
