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Hand Drawn Hearts

Contributed by setting_in_the_sun on Friday, 11th March 2005 @ 03:49:59 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

Tell me why,
we waste,
so many nights;
writing down their names,
inside those hearts,
we've sketched repeatedly,
on our writing paper.
Being in trance,
thinking of the one,
we've been caught
in lust with.
Oh lust... it's
oh so gloriously
misleading.
It's there, and fades away.
Yet you can never say,
you've never been caught,
writing in those
hand drawn hearts,
"I love..."
or
"So and So, is my world"
their name centered,
in those hearts
copiously scattered,
in every white spot of paper.
And when your heart gets broken,
you go back to that same paper,
and cross the name out
of the one who killed your smile,
than replace it with a new,
writing down how much you hate,

"the boy who killed my dreams"

And then those hearts still
look at you...
A memory of a lust gone wrong,
even when you cross them out,
scribble till their nothing
but a black hole-
or a faded pencil lining,
they are there, something,
that once was,
something that never leaves

those stupid
hand drawn hearts

I've wasted hours making,
sketching,

all over each
and every page

of each and every notebook

I've
ever written
thoughts.

Why though...

mystery

Copyright © setting_in_the_sun ... [ 2005-03-11 15:49:59]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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