All Deceivable Sins

SIckness can be described in so many ways,

a virus, a bacteria, a man....some say,

the way his eyes haunt you in the morning after that final kiss before he leaves,

or the way his skin feels on your fingers as you, together, breathe.

All of these described,

make one consensus to be known,

this is a sickness.

A sickness of love,

a sickness of terror.

When he doesnt call, all you see,

are her eyes burning in you skull.

Shes prettier than you, thats all you know,

this sickness.....this disease,

it can kill you if you let it.

Paranoia is the bug,

the acrid scent of cheap perfume dancing in the breeze,

the clothes are decieving,

the glitter on the doorway,

all it points to a womans disbelieving.

Nothing can convince you,

you cant escape the fate.

You wait up,

your disease, he is late.

Eyes of dancing fire

turn him to ashes.

Your cured, my friend.

Dont ever love another.

Reviews

[funeralmoon]

very deep i like your words they play out very nicely on the poem :))

[Devilyn]

I really like it. I especially like 'Eyes of dancing fire turn him to ashes.' Good Write =)