The Look in His Eyes

My veins transform to ice As I turn to face you

So Called Coping

I am not ashamed But I bite my tongue

Not meant as an insult But it still hurts

all alone in this hallow home

The room is familiar Although the faces are not

Sick gnawing feeling Gut churning

I scream but am not heard

A dark stormy night An accusing shade of red Stains his shaking hands

The trees seem to tower As they brush against the sky

A knife stuck in between my ribs And I gasp at your betrayal