|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Hands as weapons
Contributed by
slightobsession
on
Monday, 3rd April 2006 @ 12:19:09 PM in AEST
Topic:
toughstuff
|
I've had my high, now here's my low Once more this smile is just for show Who would have thought I'd be this weak? Hurting so much that I can't speak. I whisper no, but no all the same, But here you are, yelling my name. My hands as weapons, my mouth as a tool, Of self hate and destruction; I've been such a fool. Two people writhing, one in despair, The other with lust, the former not really there. Her hands on the job, an automatic motion, A heartless actor, devoid of emotion, She goes through the noises, the groans and the sighs Yet never makes contact, not with her eyes. Playing the part and repeating the lines, Knowing full well the grounds covered with mines, Living the game she thought she'd left behind, Shocked and appalled when she turned round to find That you can't escape hist'ry, can't run from the past The past... hers has caught her at last.
Copyright ©
slightobsession
... [
2006-04-03 12:19:09] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
|