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Imperfect Love
I should of know your lies were a work of fables. When you took hold of my beaten heart. You pierced each veins by your shattered promises. You fractured every beat with your fist. You disconnected all my cords to pump life back into my heart. I should of open my eyes! All these brutal signs were my scream to be vanquished from your arms. But I hesitated , to hope only that your imperfect senses would come back to reality. Who would of know those precious loving arms, I once laid in turn into the arms I wish to ignore. And those hands,that once perfectly matched mine turn into the hands that destroyed our equality. Your eyes were the ones I adore but now I most fear. And those lips of yours were the ones I obeyed with pleasure. Now I disobey your lips demand with humble halting. The emotion I once felt with you is no longer existing. Enduring love has disappeared into crippled anger. Your empty threats is what isolates me to speak. My heart has spent its due time to your demolishing, overpowering, crushing, dishonorable, ruining,severely imperfect way of love. Your mistreatment is collapsing my breath. I'm afraid to say if I endure one more touch of your horrifying affection. I won't bear to tolerate your abuse without a fight . My mouth will no longer contain the act of silence. I hope your ready for my stance of justice.
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'You can approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness, or even despair - the sense that you can never completely put on the page what's in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page.'<br /> <br /> Stephen King