My broken hear, your broken face

Not now or forever will I ever feel remorse nor sympathy for that patronizing creature before me
Her once death-inducing smiles now smoldering into almost a passive form of sincere regret, pain for her even
But I myself share no break of pleasantry-hope, neither help nor disguise my growing hatred
Her tears seem to wash away the thick blood from my hands, from which she stained all these years
And silent break throughs from those misery worn sobs only sink in deeper through the crevices of my mind
Relaxing episode of comfort, unusual for her grimly state, I watch the hot tears building up
Laughing quietly to myself, she deserved this, draped in all the formal intoxicants your lies have brought you no where
And yet she was utterly convinced that mud-trodden kisses could cleverly smear away the past
But instead her pain has no cure, and she yearns to come back to the only lips that truly felt her indifference, her catastrophic nightmares laced with unforgiven fingertips, and loved her rightly in the process
But she have not only wronged herself in the hell she put herself in, but also brought me down with her
Still I see no reason to show a slight interest while she’s pleading, dark eyes, brown eyes. beg for my heart
Mud-trodden and empty of any sense that sanity might bring, the sheer exhaustion weighing down my eyelids
My lips can only move so fast, and they only seem to be insulting her further, so she should leave before the sun fades
Or the stillness of the night might send more memories creeping through her mind
And the undeniable pain will welt up inside that barren heart, becoming yet another enforced addiction
So I’ll let petty hate carve words across my chest, letting only this control the way my fingers curl loosely around her hair
And to smile in her broken face is to drive my fingernails right through her cold, pendant strung heart
And rip through the flesh of her chest to see that all that pain, all that misery, all the simple little ways she said she’d love me until the very end
Were simply imagined words, silenced by her deafening cries for comfort
And as I pull her closer to me, where I can smell the perfume across her neck, her melancholy heart stops abruptly
A simple kiss would fix everything, her razor blade voices whispers with lust hanging off every word
Oh and I smile at her urgency to feel my lips crush hers, I merely laugh and push that creature of love and hate and lies away
Not now or forever will I ever feel remorse nor sympathy for your death-inducing existence, I say quietly in return to her craving lips
Knowing that that was just the dagger that went straight through that heart of hers
So now the blood can pour freely and the tears can convey in an absolute tragedy

the title is suppose to be my broken heart, your broken face...:] typos..

oh...my ...god. that is amazing.talent that flows through your unsteady fingertips to convey a truth that is so existant so brutal and yet so honest to portaray your feelings, this poem is very good and reminds me of one of my dead and peircing relationships, hoping that dosn't offend you in any way, I leave you with my comment.

thanks!! :]