Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2013
Lonely there is a female, just a small girl in all punctuality
and she sits upon the curb of a lovely looking marble paved road
Only the road is no longer marble, it is dusted with the fragments of ash
from the cigarettes she puffs away at, every day until her lungs constrict
The boa made of exaggerated smoke always is pulling upon her air passages
never wanting to let her esophagus be cooled by crisp and clean air
Her feet are bare, frozen and bleeding, leaving drops of blood behind
trails from where she's once been, and where the girls' feet will travel
Beaten and bruised, thrown and spat out, she was the trash of society and its remains
but in all actuality, society was the men she slept with, and she, only wanting cover of the rain at night
Forced into what they called sensuality, but the young girl closes off her emotions and senses
and wished for a home to call her own, but never feeling the want in her heart enough to stay
This girls clothing is ragged, shredded and torn, wrinkled from the nights she's spent
in a strangers arms, she takes danger by the horn, receives herself a death call instead
A disease has been forming, and it grows in magnitude with each passing strangers call
thus the girl has fallen upon her knees, and the disease still finds a way to pass along its young
The female has tried to quit, with her way of life, but the bills keep a'coming, and she is still in need
the hunger inside her drives her raving mad, it is slightly ludicrous, this lunatic she's become
To feed upon a strangers flesh, to conquer her unrighteous lusting and her want
this is the girl that we see who is foolish in her ways, as she folds her hands to her breast
Hands are paled and over worked, dry and calloused never have a bout of rest
so trustful in their own ways, hardy they work like crusted placid tools
Still upon the paved road she sits, crunching her bones into a ball
her skin is increasingly thin, no wonder she gasps with pain for every movement she makes
This young girl, is young enough to let the tears cascade over her heavily dolled up face
her cosmetic encrusted eyes run, covering her make-up splashed face even more
The grime and dirt smudged upon her face from being splashed by non-helping passer byes
and her mouth is made up of a slashed and jagged pair of lips, from lipstick she put on
Smears her great complexion , with the fiery burn of stained glass that was meant for cheeks
thinning roses of auburn, painted with a closed precision, soaked with raccoon cosmetics
Fearfully she sits, silent as water, her fluid running out as if the air around
whips her inside, and eats her on the outside, it begun by freezing her skeleton over
For she was always their (as in men)collected victim and she begun to wonder why
her fellow human's never had believed her she saw through her crystal tears
That doll faced men and doll faced women, had a secret they kept
they only wanted to play God with the clown she had become
I'll probably change this once I actually read all of it. Cheers :))
Kendal Anne
Written by
Kendal Anne  The Earthly Planet
(The Earthly Planet)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems