CONFESSION OF A BASTARD.

CONFESSION OF A BASTARD.
sneak.

All dressed down and dying to go.
Get me to the pub on time.
Forget myself for a night or two.
This feeling suits me fine.
5 o' clock shadow - Half past now.
Our glances over-lap.
The stench of drunken humour -
flows, as if on tap.
And you so pretty in PVC -
melt within my hand.
We're so high we won't come down.
Preparing to crash-land.
War breaks out as I break in -
to a sweat bought on by you.
Hair as black as mood swings,
eyes of dying blue.
Brain cells jump to certain death.
Certain death approves.
They've nothing left worth fighting for.
Intentions born to lose.
And all I sense is emptiness -
as hangovers abate.
The mirror in her bathroom -
reminds me of my fate.
Razor cutz on blank facade.
Sunken eyes sell pain.
I stare at the reflection -
I will never see again.
Her plastic dress on wooden floor,
she lye's unwrapped and sweet.
I taste her candy innocence -
before plying deceit.
Condensated words of love.
In pools of lust we flow.
Dissolving girl, your future mapped.
I came. I left. I know.

sneak technique.