By Othelia
Telling me you loved me,walking hand in hand;
Bringing me gifts from afar,trinkets from foreign lands.
Drinking wine together,whispers beneath the stars;
That was the love we shared,not mine,not yours,but ours.
Slowly it started wilting,the blossom of our hearts;
Its petals slowly scattering,tearing us apart.
With each word you gave me,something wasn't there,
The gentle tone of your precious voice,telling me you care.
You slowly stripped my soul,peeling my joy to bare,
And now its as thin as a spindle needle,naked,barely~there.
Then you went,your soul in tact,in chase of another girl;
Whilst I was left with my needle-thin soul and a mocking,scornful world.
But whilst you were away,my dear,my soul had time to grow;
And as you couldn't strip it more,the joy began to show.
Each day it would comeback,slowly growing stronger
And I knew that your words or flimsy affairs could peel it away no longer.
When I'd finally grown,and my heart was ripe once more,
You decided you needed my care again and came knocking on my door.
One look in your eyes,I could feel my soul unpeeling
And I knew that,again,you were here to steal my joyous,warming feelings.
For that's what it is,my fickle love,I can finally see,
that the reason you keep me,tied on a string,is to dump your emotions on me.
Im used as a clown,to keep you amused, or a hobby whenever your down.
Im just a second choice to you,but still you keep me around.
It's not that I don't love you, though you don't need me,though there's no love in your kiss;
No,the reason I cant come back to you ,my love,is simply this:
I've rebuilt my heart from a fragment to a whole,
And everytime you leave me,dear,you steal a piece of my soul.
OTHELIA
XX