Categories > Original > Poetry0 Reviews
as i lay here in this bed.
forced to listen to the beating of my heart,
that just wont go away.
It beats the sylables of your name,
bringing up memories past and gone.
and thinking of all we have and had,
makes my senses come undone.
there are many words i could dream,
many things i could say.
but if i live in that fantasy,
ill be dreaming my heart away.
i never saw the knife,
that you used to cut out my heart.
i never heard you shed a tear,
for this damage you instilled.