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Poetry
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| My Knives | |
| By shirley_keeldar | ||||||||
| 03 April 2006 | ||||||||
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Vows never to answer the phone or reply to the text but eyes are dry from staring at it willing it to ring Your smallest misdemeanor is a massive betrayal I lie there awake and shivering, intending to ignore you when you call but you dont Each minute that passes silently is another stab in my heart; self-inflicted, furious I think about you in all of those minutes and wonder how you can think of anything else but me It is not too much to ask that I be your only waking thought That I live in your dreams All I want is to be loved like I love
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