You've got it all covered.
From the dismembered limbs
to the bloody torso.
All secrets lie under the bed
or leaking in the bathtub
in a locked bathroom
just down the hall
and to the right.
You're not the one to keep
sticky skeletons in your closet,
still juicy with flesh.
Just let me think...
You're the kind of person
who dissects herself
with a butterknife
just for two sips of pain
instead of one.
Your mind is harder than three vault walls
and a man hole cover.
But your heart is softer than
a pile of mushrooms.
Oceans don't rise and fall
in your eyes.
It's a volcano resting beyond
that horizon,
roaring and spilling over,
melting the people you see,
baking them into ash.
You pick your brown scabs,
let the puss
ooze down your leg,
torturing your flesh
just because you can.
What did I expect?
The first day we met
you told me of your crimes,
binding us together
with secrets never dreamed of.
End: 11:21 pm
Wed. July 8, 2009 |
Submission Name: Too Much Information
