Damaged.

Nothing comes close

to the skin she wears.

hatred knitted into

fibers of her bones.

stolen soul, and hidden,

deep, within evil dreams ...

no yesterday's lift her head.

blood washing down drains,

with secrets to keep,

and a gullet full of whiskey to 'mend' ...

How about,

Fuck you.

yes, hatred is real.

Hatred is felt.

Hatred is lived.

Hatred is betrayal.

Hatred kills and

sends unwanted souls to hell.

pain is only but a scar,

it scabs, it heals

and you move the fuck on.

Hatred is forever ...

It's what you hog tie

as you beat it

like a piñata,

laughing in the face of weakness,

squealing in fear,

giving a half assed attempt for forgiveness.

but the damage has already been done ...