 | She opens her eyes and sees,
She is not where she wants to be
Once more her heart shattered,
Once more she shed tears for another
She whispers to herself,
“It’s alright, tomorrow will be much better”
She lies to herself, for she knows this would not occur
The phone rings and her heart stops,
The heart is a fragile object; love to it, is a curse we have all been cursed upon
She picks it up, disappointments to her are like breathing
She has and does them regularly
-- -- --
The line is dead, but of course she knew that, her heart wanted to lie
The weather is a beauty she thinks;
While she peers out her cracked window
When love won’t bring you happiness the littlest beauties are extravagant to you
She looks to her mirror, “what an ugly sight”
She believes beauty, is far from her.
One whisper,
Two lies,
Three friends,
Four cries,
Five days,
Six bridesmaids,
Seven wishes,
Eight songs,
Nine poems,
Ten hearts,
Will lead her as far away from you as possible |  |
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