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Literature Text
Perhaps I am the predator.
I devour your affections
like blood, to feed my thirsty heart.
You serve me your devotion on a platter
And I unlock the steel bones of my corset
long enough to consume
with hooked beak and claw.
Every morning I build my paper mache mask out of your letters
just to feel the touch of your hand on mine;
just an embrace to warm my porcelain skin
with a heat that fades before you turn the corner of my room.
I remember the last kiss to keep my heart beating
And my hidden tears glue the mask to my face.
I devour your affections
like blood, to feed my thirsty heart.
You serve me your devotion on a platter
And I unlock the steel bones of my corset
long enough to consume
with hooked beak and claw.
Every morning I build my paper mache mask out of your letters
just to feel the touch of your hand on mine;
just an embrace to warm my porcelain skin
with a heat that fades before you turn the corner of my room.
I remember the last kiss to keep my heart beating
And my hidden tears glue the mask to my face.
I don't remember the last time I finished a poem. "Finished" of course. None of my poetry is every really "finished" by academic/literary standards.
This is me procrastinating. Title needs work. What are some synonyms for "doll?"
This is me procrastinating. Title needs work. What are some synonyms for "doll?"
© 2009 - 2024 okami-san
Comments2
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By the way, this is Krystal. The one who moved to Toga all those years ago.