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you played with my hair
rougher
looked in my eyes
stronger
kissed my forehead
fainter
stroked my thigh
higher
licked my collarbone
lower
brushed my cheek
after
held my hand
tighter
changed my skin
tougher

helped me see
who you really are.
**read without italics first**
I was sitting in a nonchalant coffee shop, overlooking the satin river. The moon's reflection graduated over the still waters like milk being poured into bitter black coffee.
As I sip my tiredness away, I mull over what the shadows of my hood secrete. The shameful, suggestive, sinful tones of purples and blues lay a lot deeper than on the surface of my colourless skin, but tints my vision to see though a red filter. Red. The colour of thick blood that pulses around my body - reaching every place that your sharp tongue has already claimed. Your words battered me. I'm not a piñata yet you continue to hollow me out. My blood leaked as if it were candy; your appetite, your sweet tooth was hungry for my suffering.
i have no idea i feel stupid now
LOVE
is a word you allow to slip so easily out of your red tinted lips
followed by a seductive glance over your slightly raised shoulder
a cue your mascara thickened eyelashes know too well
you'll accept this binding because
your heart is so infatuated that his must be too
...
right?
Depression suffocates it's victims.

It engulfs their thoughts with nothing less
than the repetitive deafening drumming
that have been put on display through the
art work on my wrists.

'Oh no it's my cat, he's a scratcher'.

They look at me with pity in their eyes.
Stop it.
Stop looking down at me like a lost girl who needs guidance,
like a stupid girl who needs to pop a pill to make her smile.

I'm no clown,

I don't feel the need to draw on a smile.
As if I'd believe my own pathetic excuses.
But do you truly realise what agony my own soul is feeling?
Do you know I open my skin up to release my demons?
Do you know I cry to cleanse my body of the holy water I surely do not deserve.

Skin and bones.
Scarred and fragile.

I sit in a room full of boisterous people
still feeling like part of the wallpaper.
Still feeling like the transparent vase amidst the
decorated clay pots.
The colour of my life has been stripped back to the bare
blacks and whites.
they say whenever you dream about someone
they're dreaming about you too

so whenever i stab you
shoot you
drown you
*** you

do you dream the same?
its one of them nights
maybe
just maybe
a world in black and white
isnt half bad after all
i mean
that dog is happier than me

a lot happier
Purple
It was your favourite colour
You made me wear it,
you made me

When you was painting
Deep colours like
Purple
were your pallet  

Your canvas was pale white
clean and pure
Innocent almost
but your aggressive ruined it

Your paintbrush
you held it with power, pride
dominance
with brutal force

i was your canvas
and your brush your fist
you smothered me now
i am your favourite colour

purple.
i had a cover for science
It leaked,
dripped
spilled
empty promises that he carelessly whispered in your ear
that wore the diamonds he bought,
reciting the cliché line
'i will love you forever'
and when he stops,
I will be there.

My ears are rhythmically in tune with your lips;
i will know then they tremble.

You will not keep his secrets.
so all over the place
****** and raw
but I swear
it is sweet
instead of changing me
maybe try and see things
my way
eyes get heavier
strength gets weaker
feet get colder
stomach gets tighter
throat gets drier

I am ill

but what was I before?

— The End —