These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

Shattered.

 
This love, it is glass -
pure, innocent, true
Trusting, unsuspecting
It doesn't hold back but gives everything,
shows everything to you.

Yet you smeared it with lies
Faced it with a mask
Ever distorting the image within
You punctured the surface with slivers of hate
Now this glass -
it's all broken; dim.

There's nothing now but blackness
An empty heart, a soulless entity
A million fragments flying into the wind
A pervading air of misery

So tell me, are you happy now?
Where has that pure image gone to?
The day I find my reflection back
Never again would I entrust it to you.




2nd August 2001
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