To talk with you doesn’t make any sense,
When your bloody words can hurt me so much.
An exciting show is your best defense,
Slaughtered thoughts drop nakedly at the soul’s touch.

The bleeding screams are sutured in my soul.
In time, the silence of this torment grips
Some domination for a selfish goal,
While inconceivable are my truth’s lips.

Why don’t you give me a chance to leave you?
I’m a prisoner in this drama of love.
Between deformed walls, this jazz is a blue
Stretch of the sky to reach the stars above.

© Marieta Maglas

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Copyright © Marieta Maglas

Marieta Maglas is on facebook at:

Disclaimer: The image used herein is taken from the Internet. Due  appreciation  and credit is acknowledged for the same.

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