"Who do we think ourselves to be? Are we more than who we think we are?"
her.
with his every touch/ he sends electricity pulsing through my veins/ his smile outshines every star in this plethora of galaxies/ the emotion swift as a wildfire/ consumes me/ the worst demons/ are the ones we let inside ourselves/ what if he's just like the others?/ i can't lose this war/ not when my existence depends on it/ i will not tolerate/ being taken for granted again.
him.
she seems to live in the prison of her lies/ her world slipped from her fingers/ when she was pulled in by the gravity of a world/ owned by someone who excelled/ in mankind's greatest deception/ her eyes, dark and sunken/ have forgotten the sun/ she is drowning in the sea of her deceit/ who can save her?/ what if everyone will realize/ that she needs refuge/ when it's too late?/ she is wrong to think/ that truth is the most terrible thing/ since treachery/ is yet to reveal it's consequences.
"It appears to me that she fears to her heart stolen again."
Edited at 11:49 PM onNovember 4, 2014.
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Xeno
Poetryn. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers-a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence-moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emo...
