Summer really has a warm heart

For the gloom that gray reminds

and your thawing effect, summer,

I'm not done with you yet.

Nothing Domestic about Violence

I hate you for the vile memory of bruises, cuts and burns
 and myself, too
for letting the veil of 'love' blind me for so long.
you might still carry off your charm on the rest of the world.
you might have meant the world to me too,
but that's past.
With the freedom of the present,
i spit on your grave.