My lips
twist like
the door
that never
opens
the
lock
clicked shut
that shudders
as the
screams
bang
against it

a
drum's
skin

I let
my
eyes
like windows
darken
as they
fall
over you
that
cursed sweep
of
gaze that
leaves you
twisted
like
my lips

you are
devil born
are
witch blood
are
red hot
blood
pumping
rusted
heat against my
jealous
flesh
you light up
like
rockets
burning
against the
ever silent
sky
you are
incandescent
and
my
eyes
darken with

envy.

He is narcissist of highest character
is sunshine that is so smug
with its
wide smile
and rays that
poison

yet sunshine is
still your happiness

he is holder of many hearts
he likes to clutch them like
soft baby skin
to his soft chest
and feel the
beating and
warm gush
of blood
against
him

it feeds him
some say
like your eyes
never could
like the spark
that
pumped
like the
breath never could

that
beating
marvel
never could

like you
never could

he tells you that he has always loved the sun
you believe it is because he
sees himself when he
stares at it
in the reflection of the
car door

it slams behind him
as he steps over the
threshold

he does not whisper
of how your lips
were the key to his

he does not let his tongue
trail across your aching chest
as he murmurs
of how

you are the sun
baby
you shine so bright
baby

your skin is so soft
baby

sometimes you believe he has forgotten
that he was once you
was once the boy who lied
beneath the hungry tiger
and let its jaws
wrap upon his neck

and squeeze

sometimes
gentle narcissist
is he,

he likes to hold you to his chest
to feel your heart
and whispers about how
beautiful
you are
and how he

doesn't care

a pang shoots through your chest
and you feel tears leaking from you
you feel as if he has betrayed you

and then he

puts down your heart
looks you in the eye
and says

I don't love you for your beauty
baby
I love you for the fire
that spurs my wind
and
darkness that
sets my
skin aflame

every night i softly cry
eat an apple, hope to die
you've left me here, so red and flushed
im waiting for you, but i feel rushed
the bleeding heart slips from my grasp
i run to catch it in a dash
but only you can break its fall
and as it hits, I slowly crawl
to you.
adieu.
goodbye,
sweet lie.

He is
mystery
curled in
dark eyes
and a
smile that
makes her
want to
sing.

She is
suspicious
of his
glances
that he sends
like
birthday cards

she believes
them
obligatory
and
non representative
of his
true feelings

she is
cursing him
like
winter storms
that
curl around her
wrists and
tie her
to the
leaking ceiling

he always
says
hello

she wonders
what it means

she knows
he
would never
look at
her

she is
not much

but she
cannot stop
her
heart from
squealing
like some
babies
favourite
bunny
as he
shines
so radiant
and

sincere

in her
direction

she thinks
she might
hate him
for being
so
god
****
lovely

he is
too similar
to the
warm
wind that
crashes over her
like
waves
the warm
water
that gives her
gold dust tingles
the gentle
hand that
rests
on her
cheek and
slowly
drifts like
icebergs
down
with small
fingers
to the
crest of her
smile

she
thinks
his
sparkling
eyes
are
her
worst
enemy

She leans back,
head rested
head bumping up
and down
like
waterfalls that
sometimes
loose their
magical
glow and
get
confused.

Her sunglasses rest
restrain her glowing face
like the
headlights that
reflect from her
eyes
hidden from sight
she feels the
creases of the
plastic in
her cheeks
curling
impressions like
footprints on
the sand
into her
jawline

like kisses
she thinks
that hang
too long
on the
cusp of her
morning breath.

She had
searched
all morning
for the make up
that fit her
botched
skin tone
her arms had
been a
canvas of
experimental
design
like that
painting
she sometimes
pretends to
stare at

she is artist
she murmurs
as she
looks at
that vase
which
seems so

flat.

She
wears the
make up
not because
she wants to
be
or
feel
beautiful,
she does not want
the sunbeams
to shine
from under
her fingernails
or her
lips
to light up
like
christmas
baubels,
she coats
it as
penance
for a past
life
for the craggled
hag that
has no voice
in her
sternum
its oldened
fingers
tap on
her
waistline
like
measuring
utensils.

She wears
the make up
to
cover up
her
morning breath

the morning
sunlight
had
cast
a
brutal gleam
upon her
showing
all her
dark spots

she wears
make up
as
penance
for the
devilish thoughts
that bounce
like
raindrops
off her
steel roof

of the whispered
mercies
of the
voiceless
hag that
hangs in
her
noosed
throat

she wears
penance
like its
a beautiful
blush

like drifted
snow has
coated her
skin and
she is
now
destroyed

she covers
up the
crinkled
muesli
bar
hag that
sings
old
folk tales
in her
lips

the rogue
red
that
tastes like

his blood.

I held my
tongue
so long
that it has
withered
like a
dying vine
within my
throat
and I can
only rasp
of things
I wished
to say.

I held
my tongue
so long
that my
calloused hands
no longer
wish
to hold my
weight

the roof
has never
seemed
so high up.