Dying the Daydreamer's Death

I don't write happy endings.

The anti-fatal bee-otch stirs

     Finally stands

     Finally rises

Webs on her breasts

Skeletal hands

A corpse full of moulded surprises

She walks bent over

Straightens slow

The creaking and cracking of her ancient bones

Can be heard from a monstrous mile

Breaking, dismantled

Crumbles into a horrible pile

     And smiles.

     "Beatifull?"

     "Gorgeous."

Says a fair-haired man

With a long-lost grin

And a sailor's tan

     "Like the sea at dawn-

     The hue of your hands.

     Like diamand dust-

     The pallor of your lips.

     Like a king's jeweled sword-

     The sharp edge to your hips.

     Come with me, home."

A fleet of ships

Wait for the man and his rotting mistress

She raised a hand

     and almost lost it

Inclined her head

     and literally dropped it

     but the man cought it

And bundled her up in her dress

Then carried her onto the deck

     Of the Devil's Caress

          ...

The air became thick and hot

The crew was laughing behind her

     Betrayed, forced to walk the plank

     She fell into the sea of fire.

 

Author's Note

Forgive my dark, dark scenarios. You should know me already as SHE that does NOT DO happy endings, thank you.
A secret does not exist until it is touched by the oblivious.

Reviews

[Marie Harrison]

Very clever poem.
I loved it!
It's perfect.
I could see it all
happen, especially
as she dropped her
skull and walked
the plank.

[dreaming dame]

:) And literally droppedit... you made me, well I def. didn't expect her to drop it. :) But it tells of you, NOT saying you're rotting or something, but I see you in this, the emotion. :) See, you can write whatever you want, whenever you want, and it is always a good write. ;) Keep it coming, Poe.

[SoulCrusader (Yas)]

i totally love it, love the dark and nature of it and your words and style totally make it a hit for me :)