A knife and your liesA Poem by Mélania Woolf
A pale mourn Over a red idle scene Dancing so slow On your departure symphony You are travelling … It was a sudden have-to-go You certainly didn’t know You didn’t get a suitcase Big enough for your things Your masks of flesh to pack And I thought there’s no need Or is it you are willing To trick demons in hell And fire, as well? You are bleeding Are you ever changing? Or you still hide faces And more lies to tell? Something so filthy Got me loving it Watching you lift-off What appeared to be you Every time you decided you had to. And I’d watch you through All kinds of seasons Amazed and swallowed By your emptied words It got me loving it To the point I was determined And took on my shoulder a job I thought I should dig beneath I’m sorry … Okay maybe I am not. I had to do it! It killed me each time You murder a true detail I conceived the truth saving you And my knife setting your veins free Are you alive? No don’t breathe It’ll make it heavy for me You lying naked there Freed of all your sorrows I freed you … Yet I still can’t see What are you? Don’t stare at me! You’re dead as the stones Ones you threw in the river When you talked something Near madness You said you loved me I laughed Or maybe I cried But s**t does it matter? You lied And now you died © 2014 Mélania WoolfReviews
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Added on July 6, 2014Last Updated on July 6, 2014 Author
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