Purple shadows beneath my eyes
circling those shavings of ice suspended
in milky orbs holding the obsidian of
Promises like glass on the tiled floor,
tiptoe closer to you, the sharp pain of being
left behind cutting into the soles of my feet,
ignored as I reach for you.
Could I be a doll to place on your
shelf, proving that I loved you
and that I'm still haunting you?
Lies crawling toward me
fended off with a cheap smile
that I purchased so I could hide.
Now my saccharine words and
lilting voice are not enough
and they're clawing at my ankles.
Reaching for you
And they say the words
that bring me to mind.
Hair like tiger lilies,
wild alongside this fence picket
An artist, dreaming of those things
that I won't posses, and a fickle heart
to follow at all times.
I don't care if you've gone and left
me behind, as long you're still thinking
of me as you run.