Loose Threads

If love had a kin, then I'd be the last of its blood. Alone I stand, in a world of hearts turned to mud. Fallen victim to the ones I adore—cold-blooded and ruthless. Forced to shadows, I now dwell; my passion, now useless. "Brother," he says. "Lover," she says. LIES!!! LIES!!! LIES!!!!!!! Betrayal's sharp knife cuts deep, leaving scars that flatter misery. Drip, drip, drip—my heart goes numb. In silence, I scream to a world deaf and dumb. Bonds of loose threads break easily, don't you know? I scream, I shout, yet no one answers, Locked in this room that reeks of spite. .