Thursday, July 2, 2009

And if you don't love me, let me go...

I am a writer, a writer of fictions,
I am the heart that you call home,
And I've written pages upon pages,
Trying to rid you from my bones.

I'm a moneylender,
I have fortunes upon fortunes.
Take my hand for tender,
I am tortured, ever tortured.

If you don't love me, let me go!

1 comment:

  1. Lovely! yore writtin' gits better every tahm ah sees et! :)

    sorry I haven't been commenting lately. I'm a bad gurl. :( kidding! can't wait to see you @ the 4th @ 8:30!


M is for Margaret, who was swept out to sea...