Disheveled, I look up at you, <br />my protector, my muse, my love. <br />Having cried for days, my eyes <br />are puffy, red, and glistening <br />still with the hint of tears. <br />As I sit on the floor, you <br />standing over me with your <br />hand poised to strike, I <br />can only think of happier <br />days. A sickness has taken <br />over your mind. A sickness <br />created by the hand of man. <br />Without it, you were beautiful; <br />with it, a horrifying monster. <br />All the joy is gone from your <br />emerald orbs, all of the sparkle <br />that drew me in. Clouded have <br />your eyes become, with the Hell <br />you have created for yourself. <br />Looking for a hint of the man <br />I knew before the Drink <br />took hold, I gaze up at your <br />lovely face, and you hesitate.<br /><br />Miranda Oney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/disheveled-i-look-up-at-you/
