I'd liken you to an alien
Pulling out a new skin suit from the closet each day,
But that would mean you're extraterrestrial
And you are nothing but ordinary.
Tell me you and him are “just friends”
And we are “close friends”
As you sharpen the fangs you’ll leech me with,
Plastic over your teeth.
It’s not winning if you don’t become someone else.
I’d call you chameleon, but
I have too much respect for them
And your colors just aren’t that bright.
Your slithering tongue won’t be remembered in a year.
Your name gone the next.
Take solace in knowing that what you tried to break
Will forever be etched into his skin
Like the tattoo in mine;
Memorable, but not you.
You stood in my shadow
And tried to call it yours.
Blame the sun for spilling your secrets.
And blame me when you burn.
I warned you,
Sweetheart,
That I crawled up from hell.
You just crawled out of a casket.
I have flames; you have your fears,
And you cannot bury me with them.
You tried to warm your rotting soul
And take the flames as your own.
Smother your ugly in ice
And ask me why I was so cold.
Whirling wardrobe,
Break free.
Mystic?
***** please.
A sunflower doesn’t succumb to weeds.
You’re just fertilizer for me.
This is my summer part three.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 3:55 PM UTC
I'd liken you to an alien
Pulling out a new skin suit from the closet each day,
But that would mean you're extraterrestrial
And you are nothing but ordinary.
Tell me you and him are “just friends”
And we are “close friends”
As you sharpen the fangs you’ll leech me with,
Plastic over your teeth.
It’s not winning if you don’t become someone else.
I’d call you chameleon, but
I have too much respect for them
And your colors just aren’t that bright.
Your slithering tongue won’t be remembered in a year.
Your name gone the next.
Take solace in knowing that what you tried to break
Will forever be etched into his skin
Like the tattoo in mine;
Memorable, but not you.
You stood in my shadow
And tried to call it yours.
Blame the sun for spilling your secrets.
And blame me when you burn.
I warned you,
Sweetheart,
That I crawled up from hell.
You just crawled out of a casket.
I have flames; you have your fears,
And you cannot bury me with them.
You tried to warm your rotting soul
And take the flames as your own.
Smother your ugly in ice
And ask me why I was so cold.
Whirling wardrobe,
Break free.
Mystic?
***** please.
A sunflower doesn’t succumb to weeds.
You’re just fertilizer for me.
This is my summer part three.
Request permission to use this poem