April 23, 2009

A Glass Slipper Rampage

biting my own head off
as the scenery falls down.
itemizing the ways that I,
well, I burned it down.
without this shred of discretion
no fucking aggression.
without a kiss to parch this lip
sore and bruised like the hips I never touch.
spit, stare
blood, wash
wipe, rinse
look, leave.
Velocity triggers your eyes to awaken
As purpose drains, you fall back shaken
Pooled at your feet, my only refuge
Strapped tightly to an engine of pestilence

i know this girl
she has her neck
fingers are soft
not easy to break

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