Shiny Silver Dreams.
Falling. I'm good at this. And I will make yougood at this too.
Into the ground, and exciting afterlives. I envy you.
I see my reflection in the trickling, congealing river.
I look so pretty holding it, don't I, it brings light to my eyes. Sparkle. I'm special.
You have stopped
Talking to me, pleading with me, praying to me.
Write it down in something superior to the lowly Bible.
You are under my spell.
Ha. Now you're silent. It's my turn to talk.
Now. Now. My words are the life dying in your eyes.
Down, down. The bloodstains come somewhere between fear and surprise.
The creatures have gathered
to watch this sacrifice.
And they are calling to me, praising me.
I walk away, I turn back.
You are my finest masterpiece, a true work of art.
Try and look at us with one last breath because
We are so beautiful.
Listen to me. It's not Jesus, or the Devil. I'm speaking to you.
But you've left me.
Everyone always does.
It's just that I thought you might want to take a moment, in the moonlight, the twilight, to see what we will be a part of forever.
Because you're my first, though you won't be my last.
Poetry by demolitionlover
Read 725 times
Written on 2008-12-14 at 23:54
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