I don't recognize that face -
there is no memory,
of him and me -
it's erased hastily -
smudged as my makeup
bleeding
from my eyes.
how many broken promises
fill the emptiness
in a life; and the fear
of being alone
is like a watchful dog
she sits and stares into the spaces
that cannot be atoned.
Which voice lies silent
when shades grow brighter
than light?
Remorse taste like metal
or **** as artificially sweetened lips.
Familiar places will fall
just as you will,
fall into patterns of willful deceit -
their shapes twist into grotesque masks
that quickly transform to smiles
when you look - see.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 3:14 AM UTC
I don't recognize that face -
there is no memory,
of him and me -
it's erased hastily -
smudged as my makeup
bleeding
from my eyes.
how many broken promises
fill the emptiness
in a life; and the fear
of being alone
is like a watchful dog
she sits and stares into the spaces
that cannot be atoned.
Which voice lies silent
when shades grow brighter
than light?
Remorse taste like metal
or **** as artificially sweetened lips.
Familiar places will fall
just as you will,
fall into patterns of willful deceit -
their shapes twist into grotesque masks
that quickly transform to smiles
when you look - see.
