The face of cuts and confusionsYou teach theories of attitudes and feelings.
Your face - carved with cuts and confusions
Is blending into the room,
As if you're a bigger than life.
You're not. Eyes - empty, yet deep as the ocean -
Revealing a child that drowned at the age of five.
You talk about affection and movement.
Your body - stiff as the cross and irrelated,
Is carried painfully across the space,
As if your legs are tide together with a rope.
Maybe they used to be. An imaginary being -
Somehow paranoid, maybe neurotic in the head.
You give us knowledge of psychology and logic.
Your mind - clear like air, yet troubled
As if breathing and vomiting a lie,
That seems to be greater than your whole creation.
It probably is. Being a public persona -
Lonely and never intimate, you're a dog in an asylum.
You bathe in glances of love and admiration.
Your soul - lacking approval and loyalty,
Is lost in humorous gossip,
As if you're holding up a shield.
It's made out of plastic. You're an enigma,
That needs to be held and craddled like a baby.
You explain all about truth and honesty.
Your being - reminds me of cheap leather imitation,
It is wonderful and shiny, blinding
With it's sparkle, although not entirely real.
Manipulation is a talent. You throw with mud,
And then stroke my hair - just because you're king.
Poetry by FrancescaLuca
Read 774 times
Written on 2012-05-29 at 13:44
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