Warning:
Contains mature content.
(s. s.)
She always looked most gorgeous in the morning,
Waking up with her beautiful smile spread across her face,
Dancing to the sweet melodies from her voice,
Swaying her curved hips left and right to her instinctive impulse.
Fantasizing in her hopes and dreams,
Reminiscing his every last words.
How her skin felt in the caress of his touches,
And how he kissed her from her lips down to her panties,
When they made love that night under the swift rhythm of the blues.
How he held her hands against the hard surface of the walls,
While he felt her insides through her dripping wet privates.
How she moaned against the wall as minutes turned to hours,
And how he whispered I love you with the sweet sounds of lust from the guilty pleasures.
But this morning was different from the others,
Last night, she went to bed with a bleeding heart filled with cuts.
Haunted by the memories of her lost hopes and shattered dreams,
Thinking of how he played her heart like the piano tiles.
How she danced to the tune of a cheating liar just by his words,
And how he must have caressed her body just like he did hers.
She was scarred by the image of how he must have kissed her lips,
And how he must have felt her insides.
She cried under the shine of the moonlight falls,
Reminiscing how he hurt her feelings,
With his lying words, and his false promises.
So this morning she rolled off her bed edges,
And stumbled upon the broken images of her subtle reflections.
Her smile was gone, and darkness filled her eyes.
She no longer believed in rainbows,
And colder had gotten her tears.
She resurrected a cold smile, and wiped off her old tears.
Cause last night she killed her old self,
And this morning she woke up dead;
To never again, give in,
To her feelings.