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Zoe Mae Jan 2018
I wish you'd go away
I'm tired of your voice
I hear it night and day
As though I have no choice
It's been over a year
Since I last saw your face
You looked just like a deer
But I was froze in place
I'm sure you've since moved on
While I dribble out this trite
And my voice is long gone
Like a black cat in the night
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
Shapeless like a monster in the sky
Tilted like a glass eye
Howling like a creature at the moon
Reaching for my spoon

All I ever wanted
Was to be a silver bride
And to hope he doesn't notice
The dead girl at his side
All I ever needed
Was the will to be baptized
So they could rinse me of my failures
In the waves of a red tide

Faceless like a stranger in the night
Clutching my heart tight
Hiding like a vampire from the sun
Reaching for my gun

All I ever wanted
Was to be a purple bride
And we could have the little funeral
On a crumbling mountainside
All I ever needed
Was the will to be chastised
Then I could wash away my suffering
In the waves of a red tide
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
I latched onto the beast as it took off with a pounce
And I gave all I had pound for pound ounce for ounce
And just as I thought I had reached the beast's head
I looked up and was under the belly instead
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
So we find ourselves here again
Lost for words and looking in
Never quite knowing our place
Not recognizing our own face

I see the razor on the glass
I don't even have to ask
Do you think that it will numb the pain
Or maybe somewhat ease the strain

They placed the apple on your head
Sure their aim had seen better days
Sure we'll be happy once we're dead
But still it could take years...

Is this where we thought we'd be?
Hating you and loathing me
I see the needle on the floor
I don't question anymore

I wish I could have known my fate
Way before it was too late
Not sure I'd done a thing to change
Seems our lives were pre-arranged

They placed the apple on your head
Sure their aim had seen better days
They'll make us famous once we're dead
But still it could take years...
Wrote this when I was an active addict. No one likes it but it's one of my favorites. Most of my poems are songs.

— The End —