Jumping onto Nothing

One of those sour romance poems. :)

He can probe at your heart,

then give you his, tying it to marionette strings.

Invisible, little strings.

His cigarette – smoke scent haunts,

lingering to your plastic frame.

Tiny, insignificant doll.

The cigarette boy, with a mild drug aftertaste;

he can be parasitic, thriving on how much you still love him.

Attached, eternally, unwillingly.

And in those icicle eyes you’ll remain,

watched like a circus act;
dance, puppet, dance.

Reviews

[Steffi]

Loved this one.
The imagery and word choice really made the piece go.
I loved the line about the cig. smell lingering on the plastic frame.
Great write