In Grey IrisesA Poem by Elizabeth FiskeA poem by Kelsie Stark and me...Black feathers fall gently to her skin Marking the beast on prejudiced bones, Frail to her hearts contend. She believes in love, But where in grey irises Does lust seem real?
The red-eyed beauty Dances on broken toes as she Gestures flight with her long arms Hopeing to begin the worship of the Dirty past; her love letters sit in The flames of revival.
The simple words she whispers, Fade like ghosts of faith From her breath as broken promises. Her heart is offbeat. But her words, she repeats.
Etched into dirty finger nails Her insanity drips down her chest. You left her in pieces, Scattered still, in the box Torn apart, You’ve shown her what the beast inside you Knows best. Haven’t you realized the wounds are to deep to heal?
Upon the windowpane, Lies her precious snowflakes: Dead and obsolete. She sits, waiting for you to run home To your hellish games. Your side splitting lies Are bound to be left behind. Ballet flats skin the floor Of all fears, Taking small steps That lead into flight and kicking Away monsters, Those of whom followed her into The darkness of her mind, Her sanity is so unclear.
Regret pours from the hour glass, Turning time back again From the smallest of hopes To the darkest of sin- Haven’t you learned by now The salty tears don’t seem to heal all the years… © 2011 Elizabeth FiskeAuthor's Note
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Added on May 21, 2011Last Updated on May 21, 2011 AuthorElizabeth FiskeMonroe, NHAboutFirst things first: I don't care if your male, female, black, white, Asian, gay, lesbian, trans-gender, straight, overweight, skinny, tall, short, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, etc. I respec.. more..Writing
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