She had come to think of herself
As a cold hearted Bitch
She reasoned that...
She must have been
To have hurt someone
Who cared so much about her...
So badly
It wasn't just
A slap on the arm
Kind of hurt...
Noooo...
Not this time...
This time...
It was more like...
Rip your heart open...
Pour salt in the wound
And then chop it into...
Little tiny bits...
That kind of hurt
She hated herself
For being so cruel
Hated herself even more...
For the fact that after all that...
He still seemed to care about her
She wanted the best of all worlds
Full speed ahead...
Man the torpedos...
And to hell with collateral damage!
Once...
When she was a little girl...
Her mother told her...
That she was self-centred...
And darned if
Self-fulfilling prophecy...
Didn't take hold...
She could have written the book..
On self-loathing
Funny thing was...
That she always had a soft spot for others
That she found with bruised souls
But just never seemed to forgive herself
Her sins
And...
So it was...
She built fences at first...
But the odd brave soul
Would squeeze through the cracks...
Then carefully...
Over time...
She constructed a wall of stone
High enough to keep...
Even the bravest soul out...
High enough to protect those
Who dared to offer up their hearts...
In sacrifice
And...
There she stayed...
For the rest of her days...
A cold hearted Bitch...
In Hell!
Dee Daffodil (HW) 15 April,2008
Dee, Sometimes decisions must be made, but, they rarely bring much sanity, ... just a different kind of hurt. B.V.A.
I can think of a few people this might be about, myself included. Straight from the heart and hip and poignant Dee. t x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmm... sometimes those walls are perfectly built, and there really is a big bad wolf out there... -chuck