Cold lips like glass
in a window,
on display...
I watch you sway.
A mannequin.
The bad thoughts
won't go away.
I'm so afraid
that everyone hates me.
Yesterday you hit me.
I know I'm worthless
But I've had enough.
You're just a toy to me
A mannequin....
Pull the cord
and watch you scream.
I'm dreaming.
Foreplay
is just a game
of cat and mouse.
No room to house
the hunger I have.
I'll get my revenge
For all the times you tried
to get away.
The taste of your tears
calms my fears;
an ashtray
for my illness.
And my song will be sung
like a suicide letter...
All wrapped up
like a christmas gift.
Yet still you resist
and persist to mock me:
'I thought you loved me?'
You make me sick!
Like the rope burn
on your neck,
That time will heal
but never forget.
Author notes
About someone who's rejected love turns to obsession and perversion, eventually leading to kidnapping, torture, rape, and suicide. 'Mannequin' is used to objectify the victim, from the perspective of the main character, to make the acts being committed seem acceptable.
A contest entry
- LOW LIFE CONTEST by Gerald Flagellation.
425 points, ended December 22, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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Comments
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You're just a toy to me
A mannequin....
Pull the chord
and watch you scream.
I'm dreaming.
What sort of chord was it? In a minor key? A flat perhaps? -
-
Ah yes, that was very silly of me, thanks for the error pick up. (It was meant to be like that I swear!! Haha ).
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