Her eyes told a story
That you failed to read
So infatuated
With ******* her body
You forgot
To uncover her mind

She had that passive presence
Like the ticking sound of a clock
Sometimes you might notice her
Most often at times you do not
Like a wallflower, she is
You notice her on the wall
But then you get use to her
And don't care if she's there at all
As if she is just forgettable
You can't help it if you forget
She is use to it, it's understandable
It still hurts her nonetheless

Beauty lies bereft and bound
it cries for help but utters no sound
mascara kisses fade from your lips
etched by lovers worn fingertips
purple rings around sullen eyes
the broken skin it never lies
fists of thunder make not the man
nor the swift strike of back of hand
a thousand apologies can never repair
the displacement of a single hair
for she is not an object for you to own
she is a Queen that deserves a throne
and if she allows you to enter her chamber
it's also her decision if you should remain there.

as my old wounds are healing,
new wounds have opened up.
& i cannot help but feeling
like i am out of luck.
-
i am falling in the daze of skinny luv.