Broken Picture

This poem may suck, but then again, just toying around with different styles:

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Title: Broken Picture

Trying to see
Who still stands by my side
I’m picking apart
The lies and their ties

I’m sore and I’m seething
In tired of breathing
Yet something inside
Is itching to get even

I’m aching, I’m breaking
I’m fueled to keep hating
I saw the dark tide
Yet I kept on forsaking

Who would have known
You’d be the knife in my back
The puncture that bleeds
And the bones that will snap

It’s that rush inside me
Yet it’s starting to slow
I’d tell you the outcome
But who really knows?

It’s the blood that is dripping
It’s the back and the whipping
And that need inside knowing
I was right all along

So take my wrist
Engrave my fist
Things are about to change
Taste my kiss
Embrace the pain
I’m about to rewrite your name

When inside is filled
Stained with time
All the pain, and more to find
As my eyes change
They taste your fate
They watch as will
Will let you break

I’m watching, I’m knowing
The future is slowing

Yet I’ll be there, to watch you fall
As the broken picture on the wall

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