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Sep 2011 · 802
The Way You Sleep
Laura Drost Sep 2011
The way you sleep
(when you’ve had too much whiskey)
is like that of someone
very much dead.

You still,
except for the punctuating rhythm
of your diaphragm inflating your lungs,
and maybe a snort or growl.

I can whisper
secret things
in your ear, and I know
that you won’t ever remember.
Sep 2011 · 757
Heart Shadows
Laura Drost Sep 2011
Dark twisting shadows grow within her belly.
They shred her womb like paper under knives.
The green monster isn't really green you see;
It's a black hole, consuming lives without abandon.

Her fragile body can't contain it for long.
Try as hard as she may, her skin pales,
Her emaciated corpse-like figure trembles;
The shots of absinthe render it fragile.
Still, her resilience is remarkably futile.

The burning ring of metal on her finger glows.
It's pure presence mocks her stony heart,
She wears it as a charade of innocence,
Laughing, for he can not see her true nature.

She has tasted the bounty of endless flesh.
Men and women crave her silky fingertips,
Yet, they recoil as her cobra tongue lashes out.
Ice fire radiates from her eye sockets.
Pleasure flows from the cleft between her legs,
Its overpowering poison veiled by moans.

Ecstasy is lovely, until it perverts the soul.
Accidental babies march from her belly.
Spilled seeds make up a cloak of sticky pearls.
Luscious auburn curls flow down her back,
Hiding the scars of countless knife-kisses.
Truth scars her flesh, though, nothing else can.

It's all sticks and stones, love, nothing but normal.
Sep 2011 · 669
Blame it on Jack
Laura Drost Sep 2011
Softly, my darling, I'm quite tender you know.

Your fists kiss rather hard. I've got the marks to prove it. Yes, yes, I know what Jack does to you. That's why I tried to smash the bottle over your ape's skull, or at least, that's what Jerry told me would stop you.

Look at yourself in the mirror when you shave, my love. The railroad tracks across your forehead match the tender fist-kisses on my legs. I'm sure the medics thought we were perfectly matched. You'll be quite dashing when everything heals over.

What's that you say? Oh I see now, I'll just have to wear pants until the black pools on my thighs fade. Maybe this time I'll just stop trying to look like everybody else. Shorts make my legs look like mutated lumps of play dough.

I know the police wondered how it all began and they didn't believe me when I told them it was because you loved me. People are so silly! Everything has to be done the "right" way. All we can do is laugh it off.

Have a wonderful day at work, honey. I'll be waiting with the Captain when you get home. Maybe we'll find some new inspiration. I'm a canvas, just waiting for you to prove how much you love me. And I love you.

Dear, just be gentle with me, please?
Sep 2011 · 483
The Bitter End
Laura Drost Sep 2011
My day has gone to **** real quick.
You know just ******* the mood.
Thank you lover, for being so sincere,
my fragile heart is a prism of tears.

Your ice words and fire anger
collide in my chest and crack together,
my bones shake and brittle,
shredded roses in my veins.

Our hourglass is just about done.
Our lovers' embrace in the top,
has finally dribbled through the pinch.
Only sand is left to mark what once was.
Sep 2011 · 1.4k
Masochist
Laura Drost Sep 2011
You are a *******, do you know it?
You've fallen for the one person who will
intentionally rip at your heart, hoping
just hoping, to see scarlet drops of blood
mar the silver blade I wield against you.
Be warned my darling,
I will leave you no dark corner in which
to hide your most tender thoughts.
Compassion runs from my bloodhound heart,
it fears the harsh light,
which I intend to spotlight it with.
Run, run as fast as you can,
I promise you can't hide.

You've fallen for me,
so roll up your sleeves.
Do you believe it's going to be that easy?
The marble veins below my skin
service to carry lead from my heart and back again.

Your sweet tongue can do nothing
to dispel my stoic judgments.
Is it supposed to make me feel soft?
You tell me that my skin is different
from everybody else's.
Mayhap your hands are calloused
from working on cars and
permanently numb from the kisses of
electricity to your fingertips,
still my flesh isn't different than yours.
It's only colder,
and akin to the color of death.
Don't you know that
a hand is just a hand?

Bravery is just a cage of ribs.
Bone is nothing but porous bridges
of calcium and other things
that protect our hearts.
It's fairly simple to stop the muscle
that lets us confess.
The sky looks ****** today,
it's trying to warn you.
Pay attention dear, the fun has just arrived.
Promise not to promise anymore and I'll stop, I promise.
Perhaps the next time you knock
on my heart I'll take the chain off the door.

My heart is above love, or perhaps just under it.
I haven't decided yet.
Sep 2011 · 1.2k
Temporary Trophy
Laura Drost Sep 2011
I am a temporary trophy,
gold leaf gilded and
shiny, bright, shimmering.

You're 200% proud
because I'm yours.

The small handcuff
trapping, pinching, suffocating,
my left pinky's neighbor
pledges my body to you.

If only you could
chain my brain,
maybe you'd be
content, satisfied, done.

Perhaps that's why
I cry at night and wonder
if I'll ever break free.

Your "love" is
an exceptionally cruel
box to exist inside.

— The End —