empty breeze

Sometimes, she sits outside she thinks to myself about the hands shes been delt old her would have cried. cried over you and the things you do how you broke her heart in two multiple times. but instead, she writes rhymes. she writes and she writes, and she fights her feelings she hides behind a pen and some paper because to her, a poem is more appealing. The beauty of the words. the way they fall together like a pretty colorful sunset or a rare decorated feather. both hidden behind colors. and there are others. but that is not the point. she draws hearts and flowers on the side covers her pain up with lies and hides her heart under a melody a beautiful melody, the plan so good it could be a felony. and at her knees, as she feels the empty breeze full of memories of her and you, she lets the tears she fears flow. The last decoration on the paper, a temporary tear. like her temporary lover. that only the empty breeze will see.