splayed legs
on the edge of the bed
beaten and waxed
like some cake to be eaten
tied hands
fighting loose strands of black
blown into my face
by some cosmic faraway fan
sliced stomach
dripping of chaste promises
once made on the altar
ones that overstayed
chopped head
dancing in its place
ruining every grace
that this body has on offer
all of me
in so much glee
simply looking at the lie box
with letters from ghosts
love notes from bots
heavy with my reddest thoughts
why stare
like you have owls for eyes
blinking at wood
holding the kind of despair
your being cries
from years in the crust
why stop
with the chiming clock
guilty as you are
shoot those haloed words
and call me a liar
it's your chance to dare
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
splayed legs
on the edge of the bed
beaten and waxed
like some cake to be eaten
tied hands
fighting loose strands of black
blown into my face
by some cosmic faraway fan
sliced stomach
dripping of chaste promises
once made on the altar
ones that overstayed
chopped head
dancing in its place
ruining every grace
that this body has on offer
all of me
in so much glee
simply looking at the lie box
with letters from ghosts
love notes from bots
heavy with my reddest thoughts
why stare
like you have owls for eyes
blinking at wood
holding the kind of despair
your being cries
from years in the crust
why stop
with the chiming clock
guilty as you are
shoot those haloed words
and call me a liar
it's your chance to dare