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Absinthe

Poetry By: Twisted
Poetry


Tags: I'm, Too, Lazy, To, Label.


PLease just read!! I crucify you sinner in my church, I slaughter your innocence.


Submitted:Apr 2, 2007    Reads: 112    Comments: 2    Likes: 0   


My corrupted doll, cracked, and falling, dying slowly,

With rotting flesh smelling of dead flowers and perfume,

My black dancer, when you become a mere shadow,

these bittersweet and suicidal drugs shall make you smile....

I promise on my honour I shall never abuse you, for your twisted denial is security to me,

I kiss your soft, pale, pink mouth which taste like morphine I thank you.

Performing this dark war we have been fabricating in these streets,

Smear this bloodied lipstick on your lips as you kiss this smashed mirror,

I sharpen my dagger to remind you of your now faded injury (on your brain)

I crucify you sinner in my church, I slaughter your innocence,

Your pretty lace contrasting with my darkening candles,

After our last bad rendezvous, I take you to heal at the hospital, your amnesia and

Hereditary disorder causes your soullessness; you're a ghost of your former self,

I'm narcissus, I'm stoned and nobody is here, I have a headache,

An abstaining need for my uniform opium.

I stand at midnight, smoking, calming my alien anarchy,

My dear Victorian plagued by being hypochondriac and Prelapsarian,

In Paris, I play my piano over a lake, a natural window,

I smile for I have induced my control over you once more; I keep you safe and quiet on your chain,

Little sparkle dancer, not yet a blossom, you are far from an angel.





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