#fascade
There is three, a trio of sorts
That gives me what I need
For each of the ways I bleed
Sometimes it's my soul
My beating heart
My plagued mind
They all love my sculpted body
But none can I keep
They are all forbidden to me
Belonging to some
Or belonging to none
Too old
Or too young
I will forever be alone in my being
I am merely a fascade
Only to look at with craving eyes
And sensual thoughts
Sultry words spoken
What became of her?
With her raven hair
And marble flesh
Dark woven gown
She glides amongst the luminaries
Seeing who is free
To be with her
Until time to sleep
Who is she?
She is me
Aphrodite
Jul 2, 2025
Jul 2, 2025 at 12:50 AM UTC
So long have I been filled with doubt,
Too afraid to let pour out.
But tonight, in the midst of the storm in my spirit,
I curse your name and all that you are.
Hollow and fake.
You're no "give" and all "take".
When you speak of your life,
I can feel my hair turning gray.
I despise what you are.
I loathe what you say.
But what disgusts me the most is what you do everyday.
Liar. Sham.
You were all along.
You'd cut your own arm off before admitting you're wrong.
Prideful. Ungrateful.
You reek of greed.
Unable to distinguish what you want from what you need.
Selfish. Vain.
Quick to point a finger.
But when you are selfish,
You're the last one to linger.
Continue your fascade. Maintain the charade.
Karma's almost here and you're in the way.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:50 AM UTC