Tons of different diadems,
No reason to bury them.
The hole I dig gets bigger,
Every time I stop yell.
This insanity is haunting,
But I need it.
Look down at the pendants I've stolen,
With no rhyme or reason
Simply I dig,
Make a bigger hole.
So me and the valuable,
Can be alone.
Every necklace is the heart,
Of someone I once knew.
Things between us fell apart,
Those bodies fell apart to.
So now that I am alone,
With crystal hearts in this hole.
I can look at each one,
And recall that freaking cause.
Their bodies turned to ashes,
With my touch.
Their eyes witness betrayal,
At the hands of their love.
At the bottom of the hole now,
I look up.
With these symbols of hearts,
I'll mediate on my guilt.
Goodbye loves.
YOU ARE READING
Who is He?
PoetryA look inside my tattered mind. All of these are original poems written by me in various moods of my life.
