Reads: 36  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 29, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 29, 2018



On her bedroom floor

She dies and then revives again,

Highlighting the moment in her head.

Crying tones of a dead drum whim,

Filling her veins with lead

To sink away from the likes of him

And the sound he makes imprisoned in her head.

She looks at me in the mirror,

Eyes filled up with the saddest life.

She looks at me and sees the tears spilling out my eyes.

She looks at me, looks at me and sees me inside. 

Need to find another life and leave this one behind. 

Deceiving herself, cast out, looking for something else.

Scars in the mirror seem to fade away

But the mess underneath is stained,

And I see only the Hexenbeast behind these eyes-

Seeping through the mask that hides these horrors.

Our deadly youth is the only truth left to find. 

No one can love a forced bedside whore.

Blind eyes gouged by my fingers torn.

And it feels like the first time, though I'm older.

The worst is over

© Copyright 2018 J.M.Mason. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: