martes, 3 de marzo de 2009

Poetry

The weeakness inside me
keeps reminding me I am nothing
Nothing without you
you´re my obssesion
love you to the bones



My hatred blooms like a pale rose
as I reap the sorrow that life sews
My fingers down my throat to me
you other people are blind to see
As the bulimic inside me sits and smirks
as I lie here curled up on the flor
crying, begging, pleading no more
It is you Ana, my dearest friend
who makes me wish my life would end
How can you make me feel such love, such hate?
I am in constant fear of gaining weight
But you and I will never part
I hate you Ana with all my heart
.....but at the same time I need you with all my soul

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