I was the undying orphan of your malice
With my gunmetal nails shining in the black light
Close to midnight
Your cigar smoke words shelter my vanity
I was disciplined by the ebb and flow of fate
And learned to hate
Those liar stars and my concealer’s face
And that eternal mirror of honest words
The one I heard
Whispering, a temptress of respect
The gift you can’t bestow
Because I know
Even with you here
I am alone
Author notes
Taking Back Sunday x Panic At The Disco
Option 3: Word Bank 3
A contest entry
- Do You Have What It Takes ? by just weak hands.
800 points, ended December 12, 2008, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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