Rain fell all night.
Now it's in drips.
My skin is ice.
I've always liked it.
Maybe I'll get sick
(Third time this month.)
The roads'll be slick
And pure joy's in my gut.
Weeds will grow
With everything else.
I haven't evolved
But my world is cleansed.

You tried to hide it at first.
You thought I had no clue.
I'm not a ******* idiot.
Of course I ******* knew.

You're telling me not to worry?
That's reassuring, thanks a lot!
Oh, it's not serious?
Sure. Of course it's not.

Isn't this just grand?
Just so ******* lovely.

Hah.

You lost my respect
When you lost your dignity.

What happened to your promise?
Have you always been this dense?
Is that "man" of yours worth it?
Does this even make sense?

You give and give some more
But he doesn't love you one bit.
You even justify his actions
When he treats you like ****.

Is that what you call love?
Yes? Fine, I'll leave you be.
If that's all then I'm done.
This is the last of me you'll see.

You'd better be in heaven
If hell's what I have to go through.
Here's the last **** I give:
I didn't deserve this. ********.

In a room full of his art,
He stood as strangers admired.
There was only one subject -
The one woman on his mind.

He'd stopped time to draw her,
Living in that one second for hours or days.
He'd done it so many times
He filled the gallery with paintings of her face.

Iridescent eyes in black and white,
Blonde hair filling the canvas.
He'd seen her from every angle
And what a beautiful sight she was.

Then she was walking through the door,
Moving like air in her red dress.
She exuded the beauty and grace
That his artwork couldn't quite express.

If ever a person came out of a painting,
She was not the one.
No amount of talent and brushwork
Could captivate him like she'd done.

And his eyes did not stray now
As she bridged the space between them.
This meant he had a chance
To try and make things right again.

But he need not have apologized.
She sshed and told him, "It's okay.
This tells me so much more
Than you could ever say."

His paintings of her and only her
Were wherever they landed their eyes,
Save the window where she looked
And said, "It's snowing outside."

"Do you trust me?" he implored.
Curious, she asked, "Why?"
He said, "I need to show you something."
Then he made her close her eyes.

She trusted him - and then froze.
For he'd once again stopped time.
But then he let her into his secret world
And she couldn't believe her eyes.

Everyone they could see was still.
Even the snow floated in midair.
Everything was stopped in that second
And they were the only ones there.

They ran out in the not-falling snow,
Creating outlines with held hands.
He kissed her then, the snow like stars
And they'll decide when that second will end.

Remember when I was on fire?
Well, my soul grew cold.
I felt all the passion burn out.
Now I feel dead at my core.

No-one should live like this, right?
Though I'm not sure I even want to.
I have to write now to feel something.
So I could share it with you.

I know I'll lose it one day but for now,
I need my passion back.
So passive I have been,
Seeing in white and black.

I need words and emotions.
I've started looking today.
I need music and colors.
No more of all this grey.

When you take everything from a man
And his trust has been betrayed,
That man cannot be trusted
But you can trust his rage.

That man will stop at nothing.
He'll be ready to take the fall.
In his rage, he will seek vengeance,
And he will want it all.