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Gypsy Noel Mar 2015
Well,
Now you've done it.
Positively confused me.
Internally bruised me.
Chewed me up, spat me out,
Used me and abused me.

You're a ******* fool.
But so am I.

So here's my contract and my pen,
I'll sign myself up,
To let you do it all again.
Gypsy Noel Mar 2015
Is it blood, or is it wine,
That drips down your pallid forearm.
Tracing your flexor carpi.
Chasing your elbow sharply.
Dancing to your palpitating heartbeat.

Mucous lines-
Your nose;
     The tattered sleeves of your unwashed clothes

You sit there, at the cluttered table, across from her coffee cup
You sit there, muttering your woes.
Seething as you stare at it.
It's still half empty,
Within it a kaleidoscope of mould grows.

As the bacteria grows, and she begins to decompose.
It chews on her skin,
Six foot under, in the hardwood coffin she now resides in.

It's time now.
Let go from within
Stand up now.
Drop her coffee cup.
Drop her coffee cup
     In
          To
               The
                     Bin.
Gypsy Noel Aug 2012
where broken souls gather-
where hollowed hearts meet-
where happiness is evanescent,
their demons will make their greet

and he will bestow malady 'pon her-
and he will make her nether-
but should he then bathe in her blood,
she'll break their silky tether.

and she will provoke his passionate rage-
and she will use it to make him fall-
but should she cross the line time after time-
he'll build another unbreakable wall.

and danger is screamed in their ears,
but blinded they are to the forewarn,
their intertwining is selfishly reckless,
alas, another violent delight is born.

so where broken souls gather-
where hollowed hearts meet-
where happiness is evanescent,
their demons will make their greet...

— The End —