Broken

Salty tears and soggy pillows

are all that still remain

Her heart has shattered

empty, mere shards are all that’s left

 

A broken promise

shattered dreams

hope and faith have fled

 

But what’s left of her still yearns for him

to feel her lover’s touch

For what they had cannot be replaced

it’s a legacy no one could touch

 

it’s irony is epic

before him she’d never truly loved

Now her heart is left bleeding

like a wounded turtle dove

 

YOU SAY

You say you miss me

Can’t get me out of your head

Still, you lay in another woman’s bed

 

You say I have no idea

don’t understand how you feel

Perhaps I would if you shared

 

You say that you love me

that you want us to work

all I see are broken promises, empty words

 

You say you share with me

how you think and feel

after all the lies, it’s hard to know what’s real

 

You say that you’ll show me

by all means, do try

I need more than words to keep my cheeks dry

 

You say you can’t accept things

yet want to be my one and only

You always were, You’re the one who left me lonely

 

You say what you think I want to hear

but can not back it up with action

to my heart, I will not hold it near

About the author

Peony Ann

I am a mostly misunderstood child of the corn, born and raised in rural Illinois turned self-proclaimed writer with random, yet passionate opinions and views. It seems that I am self-taught because I was a stoner slack ass in high school who thought it’d be better to fuck around and see what kind of trouble I could make rather than to concentrate on a formal education. Who uses algebra in a corn field anyway?

My mission in life is to be me, be happy, and FTW if they don’t like it. I used to know what I really wanted in life. Since I was 5 years old, all I wanted was to be married to the same woman my entire life, be a doctor, a writer, to have a litter all my own, and to be the “token ‘hot’ Asian” in most settings. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about being a boy, because girls were just so much prettier. Now, as I approach my dirty 30, I have accomplished only one of those things successfully because, well, I’m Asian and we breed like rabbits, resulting in my litter of 5.

I aim to please, entertain and boggle with “WTF?!” moments. I even throw around a little poetry. Some will find me apPAULing, others hilarious, and some would maybe even call me a messed up kind of special. Those are the ones nearest and dearest to me who paid for all of those bibs, large crayons, and the occasional straight jacket to provide my short bus driver with for her own protection. Oh, and the ones who supported me through the transformational surgeries from Paul to Peony. I just wanted to be a delicate fucking flower, is that so wrong? P.S. I love my new tits!