she puckers up her
lips while blowing out
the last puffs of smoke through
her /l i p s/ colored by cherry red lipstick
she looks into my eyes and whispers i love you
to my face filled with dried up tears
"saying it and meaning it are two different things" i say
trying to cease the tears i was supressing (my throat tasted like that night andtherestoftheyear)
she looks at me
through her eyes--lies that she rehersed over and over till she can say
it withough struggle escaped her mouth
she tells me i'm beautiful
and together we join as one each night( entangled in a web of needing, confusion, yearning)
even though the bliss i feel is deeply shallow
and that it disappears the next morning i'm with her
(crying, throwing up, wishing that i never done it)
feeling the twisted fantasies as teenagers...but yet, i felt that i was walking aimlessly
and that we were most likely programmed into this-- p l o y
she smokes cigarette based lies into my heart, my eyes
rushing through my veins--through my blood
"no you don't" i whisper
(and her lies sound more forced though her cherry red lipstick)