P erception of perfection you peep through,
Pasty pallid skin, polished and hairless too.
O rifices overloaded with objects inserted,
Onus on organs contorted and inverted.
R ated R for restricted but,
Revered in every racing, raving heart.
N o escape, never real, a never-ending reel,
Note now how it is the act and the squeal, never the feel.
I t is its own doom, on a breakfast platter, glittering,
S erving your imagination an unforgettable, unfulfilable fantasy.
A lways present to build a prison cell and still calls you free.
T rue to itself but a lie nevertheless,
R uinous rapture you have there, rupturing a future,
A way from the light to higher heights of depravity fly,
P ursue a mirage, put on its chains now.
*Did you fall too?
I was hoping you'd give me a hand.*
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
P erception of perfection you peep through,
Pasty pallid skin, polished and hairless too.
O rifices overloaded with objects inserted,
Onus on organs contorted and inverted.
R ated R for restricted but,
Revered in every racing, raving heart.
N o escape, never real, a never-ending reel,
Note now how it is the act and the squeal, never the feel.
I t is its own doom, on a breakfast platter, glittering,
S erving your imagination an unforgettable, unfulfilable fantasy.
A lways present to build a prison cell and still calls you free.
T rue to itself but a lie nevertheless,
R uinous rapture you have there, rupturing a future,
A way from the light to higher heights of depravity fly,
P ursue a mirage, put on its chains now.
*Did you fall too?
I was hoping you'd give me a hand.*
Request permission to use this poem