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 Sep 2014 Coraline DeVille
cr
the curves on my
frame are the lines of
a sketch bent slightly
too far; i'm an awkward
angle in geometry
class no one dares to
find and this tiny black

dress is revealing too
much in too little
time. the whispers of
crisscrossed marked
thighs and starry knees
swirl before me and i'm

gone, disconnected. they say
black is slimming but
i've never felt more
potent and i hope
to god no one can see
right through me.

formal dances aren't
ideal for the invisible.
why in hell did i choose a black dress again?
I do not know if I love you
Or merely the idea of you
Would it be hypocritical for a girl who does not believe in love
to say this?
I don’t want you to think that this is a promise,
Because I don’t want to break that
I don’t want to rip your heart out
Or for you to stop the shallow beats of mine
When I am around you my knees can’t stop shaking
My hands are searching for something to hold
My heart condition worsens as I see you
The pounding in my chest is nothing to laugh at oh dear it pains me
All I want is to be near you
But do I love you?
Is love even real
Or is this some messed up infatuation that hurts me
Shadows--
The dark that brings the light,
A grading that shades the tones of life,
A graying tone of black and white.

The hopeless hide here,
Invisible to all:
They themselves concealed from their eyes,
Here, a shade of gray,
Nothing to stand in the way of being gone.

How? Why?
Days, weeks, months, years,
The trusted One...
... A lie?
Closing the door--
Bolted, nailed,
Anything to prevent it from opening again.
Does the One remember the promise?

But the door is shut,
Again alone,
In my world of gray.
Fuscous: Dark in color; tawny.

— The End —