No one can reach her

autumn

She was all spikes, like a porcupine
a protection against the world
where once a heart given freely,
love rejected, pain unbearable.

A wall built so high to scale
no cracks, solid like a rock,
love buried deep inside the vault
suffocating, dying a slow death.

Her personal space off-limits
friends few, trust is gone
cold and hard on the outside
terrified and hungry inside.

She fears letting go of hurts
laughter, a forgotten art
to suppress emotions, happiness denied
the abyss dark and bottomless.

Words of love, a forgotten language
a caring touch, in dreams is felt
an anguish cry as day breaks
as love slowly vanishes on a sigh.

Anger, the amour she wears
a weapon destroying friendship
a spell cast, she is an island
with stormy seas, no one can reach her.

By C.E. Pereira
(31-7-2014)

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