Author: Inkspilled PM
"Sluts strutting before carnal cameras./ We are, we are."Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 294 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Published: 12-04-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2976528
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
ever forgotten a word you needed?
had it on the tip of my tongue.
December 3, 2011
For some reason,
I just don't sleep anymore.
And he said
"these things take a lot of work,
being successful doesn't just come
in paper-wrapped boxes,
you open on your birthday.
I don't get anything for all that I do,
so I can't keep doing this.
You're a burden, now."
He turned away,
the light sparkled
bouncing off his glasses;
from a profile view,
I still thought he was beautiful.
Above all this hate,
I still felt admiration.
So he got up to leave, and I,
being the self-denying creature
that I am, I cheered him on
with happy smiles and
Broken hearts meet my chest cavity
hours too late. I've already
But every time I hear his blaring songs,
see his bright lit face in city streets,
I flicker in my certainty,
and wind the scarf a little tighter
round my pale, frozen neck.
The words that escape his lips
bring about a the image of a
burdened wastecase. A lonely
little writer, like me.
Who sits upon her holy throne,
signing certificates to be the next
piece that gets to own me.
And they purchase my heart
equally portioned in little diamond squares
hidden and wound inside his
plastic cases and cheap CD's.
Sometimes, they buy a hacked lung
cut into strips, buried in his vinyls.
I don't mind.
No, I don't mind his poisonous
kiss, his melted marrow-bone
caress, slick like acid.
I rather enjoy the burning
of his skin on mine.
Sinful, like my dreams at fame.
Sluts strutting before carnal cameras.
We are, we are.