On not being worth much

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Am I worth the effort? Or am I just sex?

Submitted: March 06, 2013

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Submitted: March 06, 2013




I tried to smile
But it slipped off
My face
And shattered on the
Hardwood floor

With a clang
That reverberated
In the depths of my heart
Where you slept soundly
On the purple silk sheets
I had so carefully 
(And with so much love)
Picked out for you.

It didn’t even wake you up
Not even when
I screamed and screamed
Until my throat
Turned to sandpaper.

You slept
Straight through the tears
And the pleas 
And the sound of
My blood dripping onto the
Bathroom floor
(Beautiful crimson roses
That stained the white tiles)
And you only wake up
When your carnal cravings

And I always comply
Because at least
You are (finally!) showing
You care
(Like you say you do)

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