atomic*girl*23
Bluelighter
What happened to the flowing of words
that climbed the jumbles in my mind.
Where did they decide to hang their first right and catch a train to Chatanooga.
Was is around the time that I found the beauty in mundane living?
Finding that the lap of luxury was merely a laugh of Burberry?
In your insolent arms I seemed to find comfort.
Again, finding comfort in a briar, lined with linen.
Having requested the shinier part of the wood,
And waking in the sullied muddy waters of your
Swamp o’ no return.
Lured like a moth to your incandescent porch light --
Heat producing little more than sullen warmth and immediacy of intimacy.
Why must the end always begin as such—
As a breakdown of the ways in which we confront our fears within each other.
Not dead in my eyes but sleeping--
Deep sleep--
Hibernating inside a den of silent walls and mute enemies.
You sleep inside yourself,
Talking of relaxation instead of fear of confrontation.
Careless of womankind and yet you read solely of humankind.
I will not go into your faults—
They are not your own but merely faults I perceive
And you deny.
One man’s trash, another woman’s treasure.
Pleasure her, for I am not worth the time wasted on me.
Necessities not niceties and drink is now water.
Like the butter that quenches the thirst of your bread.
Disguise.
I thought you were smarter and stronger.
Weakness lies dormant like bees to a hornet.
Not wolf in sheep’sclothing.
Just a zebra and a panda.
Not the same because their colors matched.
How long will our purgatory last?
The holidays?
The weekend?
The night?
Save me from trying to bleach myself of color.
that climbed the jumbles in my mind.
Where did they decide to hang their first right and catch a train to Chatanooga.
Was is around the time that I found the beauty in mundane living?
Finding that the lap of luxury was merely a laugh of Burberry?
In your insolent arms I seemed to find comfort.
Again, finding comfort in a briar, lined with linen.
Having requested the shinier part of the wood,
And waking in the sullied muddy waters of your
Swamp o’ no return.
Lured like a moth to your incandescent porch light --
Heat producing little more than sullen warmth and immediacy of intimacy.
Why must the end always begin as such—
As a breakdown of the ways in which we confront our fears within each other.
Not dead in my eyes but sleeping--
Deep sleep--
Hibernating inside a den of silent walls and mute enemies.
You sleep inside yourself,
Talking of relaxation instead of fear of confrontation.
Careless of womankind and yet you read solely of humankind.
I will not go into your faults—
They are not your own but merely faults I perceive
And you deny.
One man’s trash, another woman’s treasure.
Pleasure her, for I am not worth the time wasted on me.
Necessities not niceties and drink is now water.
Like the butter that quenches the thirst of your bread.
Disguise.
I thought you were smarter and stronger.
Weakness lies dormant like bees to a hornet.
Not wolf in sheep’sclothing.
Just a zebra and a panda.
Not the same because their colors matched.
How long will our purgatory last?
The holidays?
The weekend?
The night?
Save me from trying to bleach myself of color.
