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11/26/2009 9:29:30 PM
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Stomp my feet as you walk on by. Feel free to put on a show and charge me for it. For I acknowledge that I will never receive treatment like that of a queen or a prized person. I will continue to cry behind your door after you strike me to the Earth's floor. My face is red from outbursts of weeping. My stomach accepts but one meal. Despondency has come with its symptoms. 'You stupid girl, you not know any better? ' I know no other to fix my eyes and heart upon. I know no other that equals the face of such perfection. I am housing agony, conserving it because more is soon to come, and is soon to call upon Death to deliver me. But till that time, till Death comes near my beating heart, I shall endure such accommodating pain for memories in vain. Melissa Hurst
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