after the pink of romance
I looked into the eyes
of a painfully wrought love
and with the cold, starry hope of youth
hoped to find
what some call love
and when my heart was wrung
and dry
still I opened my hands
but tonight I find I have no tears
they have been shed
behind me
into the night I ask God
if there is something
I lack
and the empty silence shouts
that this empty, aching journey
is life
*written as a teenager*
