Post by Mothbriar on Sept 30, 2014 20:55:43 GMT -6
I hope you're jealous.
Wind does little to protect
Thin thighs nibbled by frigid wind
Glass arms twisted, contorted, against the cruel wind.
Hiding under a jacket that is not yours, I hope you're jealous.
I hope you regret it.
My eyes and lips drained like parched stars,
skin like parchment, bones like tent poles. Soon.
Every wasteful step, unable to stop,
breathing pushes, breathing floats.
No one is mine, no, rather I belong to no one.
If only sweet Ophelia had known the feeling.
If my bones break against a simple breeze, then let them.
You'll feel them under your boots, maybe,
every time you close your eyes
and finally understand what your hate has done to me.
I hope you'll see it.
Those dreaded teeth,
My dreaded teeth,
That tore Actaeon into bits when he betrayed trust.
I hope you'll see the flame,
over the teeth, over the tongue, the black mark it leaves.
Playing with you was too much alike, darling,
You feigning a passion or care.
It hurts in the end, doesn't it?
Maybe if you knew, you'd see it.
Perhaps you'd feel it.
Sweets to the sweet,
Violets on fresh earth.
You'd feel it then:
What it is to watch something rot where you had seen only flowers.
What it is to feel the scorn of something you dared call a friend.
What it is to regret that which you had done, finally bowing your head in apology,
but too late, dear. too late, you've shown me,
even with chance to yourself repent.
Sweets to the sweet, then?
I wonder what that leaves you.
