25 Jan 2008

Please don’t cut up my broken heart,
Oh sorry, I forgot,
You mean nothing to me
See? See that?
I try to hate you but it’s dreadfully minimal
Compared to gallons of love
That is resting in my heart
For you, of course, who else?
The door is wide open.

Please stop wounding up my broken heart,
What are you, anyway?
A heartless beast?
A cold-blooded fiend?
Gaze into me
I love no other but you
The door is half open

Please chew up my heart and swallow
Don’t spit it out so thoughtlessly
Don’t rain on me all the time
For it hurts me, deeply, and there is pain
The door is closed now
But there’s always a handle.

zaza at 12:20 am

3 angels shot me


at January 28, 2008 Blogger d SINNER!!! said...

a closed door but a handle....

a hidden invitation....?!!!

(B/w fiend or friend?)

at January 28, 2008 Blogger zazafeefi said...

ha no. meaning keh if my door [of love? my heart?] closes on him, there is always a handle that he can use to let himself back in. which sounds really pathetic. but one day, inshAllah, ill be strong enough to pretend like nothing ever happened. and till that day comes, i shall choke on my misery :]

at January 29, 2008 Blogger d SINNER!!! said...




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