Monday, July 13, 2009

TWISTED

My blood,
Runs cold,
At the mention,
Of your name.

My tears,
Turn to ice,
When I think,
Of you.

When I look,
In the mirror,
Your reflection,
Turns to dust.

I carve your name,
In stone,
As a constant reminder,
Of pain,
Forever.......

© thelma migue, 2009

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