Monday, July 26, 2010

Persephone Never Missed Her Mother.

A sad whisper from
The place
She believed made her a woman.
A stifled cry, the hole that
Might have been her heart.
Lustful eyes the only warmth.

Taking comfort in the weapon,
The Weapon is broken.
A diamond through glass
To anyone else.
Charred pieces on the inside.

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