I tear up my writing book,
Hating every page that I took,
Resenting every blank page yet to be made,
I would do anything to trade,
Such a awful book of lies,
She sat next to me,
Liar,
I wanted to scream,
What did you do to me?
I stare,
So rudely,
At her,
The girl who left me,
Bile threatens my throat,
As a knife tears at my heart's forbidden moat,
Finally letting the dam break,
Letting the tears be real,
She picked up a piece of writing,
I felt like she threw a stone at me,
As she read the crude writing,
She laughed,
As she gasped,
'Guess you are still dreaming about me.'
Leaving the knife in my heart,
She left,
Still laughing,
I looked at my nails,
Wishing that they could tear flesh,
Instead of pages.