Time is estranged and so is she.
This devil's angel, this broken picture frame.
Care to give just enough love so that I can barely breathe
(ventilate my lungs it's the only way to move.)
One after the other of these enraged night street girls crawling
sucking
on pills
and blowing lines against the window.
She's no different than those other
whores.
Backwards, forwards, left or right
I walk blindly fully aware of the blindfold on my eyes.
More fun if she guides me to the slaughterhouse.
Tear me apart, it feels good to feel forgotten and I have no future
aside from here, again, with another skinny wreck
another psycho goddess
again so what makes me want to leave her?
Nothing only she is my vice and my lungs are sore.
are sore.
they're sore.
From breathing.
Author notes
I used to lyrics to LOVE ME DEAD as the prompt. Credit to Ludo.
A contest entry
- Love Me Dead. by Dawliah.
510 points, ended October 15, 2008, 4 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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wonderful yet sad. Most people would probably consider this bizarre but its a beautiful piece to me..
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I loved it... I don't believe there are words to express how MUCH I adore this <3
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