~A Bouquet of Surprise-Me-Nots~
A doomed well wish
may sooth become.
What then pray you
might be undone
A thirst so vile
vicious and done
A slight imagined
where dreams have gone
Feigned friend beseech
I sought you some
Time felled beneath
all that I'd done
So paled the friend
so monotoned
So impact the rips
the stones that stoned
flung from behind
grinning teeth that shone
All hisses now
upon gnawed bone
So chew bare
I the whetstone
For cutting pleasure
for blood, a cone
Drink up, my Lass
Condemn alone
As a future dims
you make your bones.
Feast heartily quick
before scrutiny comes.
~Pulchritudinous~
Don't you see that I've survived?
Survived things that you never understood?
Like women setting our relationships on fire
just to fingerpaint with the soot.
And don't color me sane
just for handling this pane
like no other really expectedly should...
Like From crying from sills and putting up stills
of the sceneries freezeframed with skills
that dimmed the jumping urge which filled...
me... while this window of which by I stood.
Through windows untold and fauxships unnumbered
I've waded through and found myself aptly encumbered.
My soul is just a soul, nothing more, you're remembered.
And I'll turn my soul black, if it wasn't already.
And what taste my dreams lack, your tongue eating mismatched, and was still found hungrily ready.
But if I turn it this way, I can eat my own dreams like a little pig, sweaty
Cuntsume all your actions like a medicine healthy.
And survive once again, and again with the boils of contempt
and imaginings of hatred but spent.
Skin laced with sores after hearing your touch
cursed with but lies about lies which were everything... but not much.
And the leprosy cursed, I was spoon-fed each verse
bound and gagging of the kink, was now terse.
Mommy Dommy please abuse me! Hated terms, lie down, use me.
Twisted the beggings from "Pathetics. Doms", amuse me.
Strapped on Switch, like your stories did bore me.
Bore into my thoughts as your truths that adore me.
My soul blackens as you tell me... about me
Unpunly Choked on my own ego, as you lovingly lied about me.
Black as midnight, black as pitch... blacker than the foulest,
Which... coincided with hidden tears from the proudest,
eyes... Witch. But which is darkest? Perhaps the loudest,
lies. Never recanting nigh embellishing falsely truths, pitched.
Upon those willful ears, and forks of tongues quite stitched
One story told me. One story told switched.
And whereth doth lie, the barest of truths, do they lie?
upon wishes wished fondly, living self lived on that bed of truth, lie?
Sought deepest peace where that wondered basis of comparison lies.
And wonder if you indeed come from where there are penalties when a woman lies...
That's a flavor of words I've not seen in a lifetime. That's a scent of images I do not recall. Hearing how that pencil twirls makes my palms smile ...
Just... Who are you?!
Never tell me.
I remember, when I missed who I used to be before my heart was broken and the darkness of the world became known.
Now, I think I miss myself when I missed myself. It was... less lonely. People were more fake then. Eager to please and pretended to fit in to so many cliques just for a few hits of dopamine soaked acknowledgements and fake laughs. Ready to turn on any one person and betray just about anyone just for that hit of group camaraderie and feel just justified enough to claim all those clowns as friends while defending any one persons despicable or just brutal antisocial acts on whatever random person they had decided they no longer enjoyed or felt entertained by.
Bleak point of view, I know. And not the whole truth either. There very much were real friendships... time never tested those.
But others? Got warped. Twisted. Plain terrifying, overtime. Maybe, they always were. Maybe we want to see good where... well. Wherever.
Yeah... I suppose if I'm honest... which I hate being, I very much miss the naivete with which I believed a few too many of those were really... friends, lovers, etcetera.
First impressions coupled with red flags.... are your biggest tells. And Time.... Time teaches you that, every time.
I regret nothing. That isn't a flex. That isn't easy.
I am the lessons that make me.
But I do miss, when my heart was just a tiny bit more at peace than I thought it was then.
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