Anger

Trickling, 
Insensitivities, 
Fall from my once solid telescopes, 
That perch on porcelain, 
Freshly baked, 
Truth cannot come, 
And break my delicacy, 
As I sit on a desktop, 
Of dreams, 
Where my waterfall, 
Pools at my painted black, hard, skin, 
And all I can speak of, 
In my screaming thoughts, 
As they swirl, 
In the scarlet tornado, 
That is my anger, 
Is that I, 
I, 
Have been lied to, 
From the one soul I put my life in, 
Her presence cannot overwhelm me anymore, 
But she sits with me, 
And stabs me, 
As I peer into the shattered glass, 
Reflection, 
 Mirror in front of me.

Crippling arrow head