Dec 25, 2007 20:45
Widow
lips of poision
heart of stone
eyes that could melt
a vibe so cold
from what left her behind and alone
Jagged fingers, sharp enough to kill
a body that it's own brand of heroin
a smile that can charm the dead
still sits by a tombstone
always mourning
the women snicker and stare
at her thinning form
her beauty hides the truth inside
the dead soul in her chest
is the only thing that keeps her alive
grime on her windows
decayed flowers by the bed
crying as she kills her pain
for no one else will do
suicide is the only way out
the widow
the widow