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May Jul 2014
I bled beautifully,
Like a fresh teabag in hot water.
The trickling scarlet had me in a trance,
And beckoned me with a beguiling smile.

And so I swam on, upriver.

Against the current
Despite the inevitability of failure,
Of disappointment, danger and death.

It wasn’t hope, no,
More so the inability to distinguish
Disaster from desire; affliction from affection
Because they’re closer than one would expect.

And so I swam on, upriver.

But of course,
I was glass—
Flagrantly transparent—
And at last,

It all shattered into twelve shards
So fine,
That I couldn’t even tell which were yours, and
Which were mine.
Inspired by Angela Carter's short story "The ****** Chamber"
May Jul 2014
I wish I could say,
That I was lost in your eyes,
But it's a straight-paved road,
So I'd be telling lies.

I wish I could claim,
That you were a moat-surrounded castle,
But when I launch an invasion,
You barely even get hostile.

We're on a seesaw,
But you're not quite heavy enough.
Soon I'll get bored,
And move on to something else.

Don't make it too easy,
Don't be black and white.
For I'd just pierce through your glass,
And leave you in a plight.

— The End —