A Broken Heart's In Style.

i handed you my broken heart and you said you understood. i asked if you could fix it you touched my face with a smile and said you would. shall we dance? letting you drag me deeper into fantasy and our distorted romance. you didn't seem to realize that such a long caress could leave such a nasty mess. after all was done you took off and i watched you run. you left a note that read: "a broken heart's in style "darling", rip it open, bleed your red, wear it on your sleeve it'll be okay when you are soon dead." then you yelled "it's not you 'baby', it's me." in much the same way "you like me, but you don't." to me it seems more that you just won't.. running off with you're friends i hear your voice and the laughter fading as you so proudly gloat.. love michelle