Everyone is beautiful in the dark
By pumadelta
- 349 reads
Midnight claws at her nocturnal skin
like a lover despised and that lie lay-strewn
like Confetti across your bedroom floor.
Another illicit notch on ur four
poster. Another cold embrace,
another ferocious sex act to turn
your mother’s grave.
another misshapened reference
u choose to throw away
like a Profalactic with disgust...
discard and flush down Your
toilet of regrets
Had there be a marriage to consider,
had there been a dowry involved,
you wouldn’t have acted so wilfully,
so wild, so bereft of Felling, so fuelled
with lack of care and abandonment.
U tell ur self it’s only
sex.. I’m hurting no one.
I’m my own lord and master
in this world I have created.
lesser mortals have done much
worse things on land,
and distant seas.
So after, u cook a fry up breakfast for one,
she hands you back the keys to your flat
and you bolt the door.
You shower and shave look yourself in
the mirror and tell the reflection there’s
nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve done
nowt wrong. Everyone does it.
You’re left standing, wrapped in a towel.
the epicentre of a classic crime scene
of poisoned passion folds It’s lukewarm
arms around you.
If anything, I’m only hurt myself.
It’s my own personal form of torture.
my psychotic choice of Self harm...
As you walk down your hallway stairs,
half way down, the picture u got
when u was a salvationist,
the trail of Christ and the objet
d’air crucifix u purchased from the save
the children charity shop, some how
grows arms and legs and comes to life.
The moment pierces through ur Soul
like a double edged sword.
suddenly u become aware of sin,
of moral consequences. You went bareback.
said fuck it man, I mean, who wants to live forever?
A still small voice echoes in
your ear like a snare drum.
remeber how Freddie died?
you’ll reap The whirlwind
my son, with the seeds that you sow.
between Pilate and the Roman
guard, the persecuted Christ
says nothing. The baying crowd
In the courtyard cry
crucify him
crucify him
crucify him...
She’s a refugee... no money lined pockets.
owns no dignity of her own.
drowns her sorrows of
homeland with illegal vodka.
Smokes Marlboro lights
to disguise the stale taste
of your semen in her mouth,
wears those same old
ripped raggedy stone
washed jeans
The vulgarity of
her makeup stains
on ur pillow,
disgusts
ur sensibilities.
..
Did u solicite her
or did she seduce you?
it’s all a bit of a blur
now. as the epoch
of another mournful day,
threatens to take ur life.
The sun's bright rays blind
ur coked up blood shot eyes...
It’s an appalling
Chain of events.
You justify ur behaviour
by telling tell yourself everyone is beautiful
in the dark. Fix the gold
Crucifix hanging from
your favourite chain
around your neck...
It’s horses for courses
and I’m John Wayne
big leggy, riding off
into sunset strip.
mask ur guilt like
Lone Ranger With that
big pseudo grin...
etched in blushing rainbow
colours on ur metrosexual
manicured face.
you’re so damn proud
Judas
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