Don't wake me I'm still dreaming.
I'm not as green as you think
not the girl I was
not the same young thing
that you could break with a smile
I walk through hurricanes on my own
those storms no longer touch me.
My heart for you is stone
And my mind is mine alone.
My body no longer yours to control.....
I'm not the girl I was
not the same young thing
that you could hurt.
Not your broken toy
Not your plaything
Or your centerpiece.
I hate
The way my name
Sounds on your lips.
Such a futile sound:
So like a spoiled child
arrogant
and cruel
with no real hope of ever understanding
that he once held
a piece of the divine.
-Beatrice Y. (Cruel Spark)