His intentions are good. I can see it through his translucent paper wings, torn
and battered, fluttering in the dead wind. His halo hangs on a hinge by his
shadowy hair, darkened by my fingertips. He always likes to sit on empty park
benches and count how many times my almond eyes open to accept his arrival.
How many times must they close, to mourn his departure?
Deep in drowning water, I watch him fly with avian dreams, inhaling his
innocence and exhaling my addictive personality into his mouth.
(Respire and expire)
(Carry me on your Broken Wings)
He breathes into me
And sets me free
Let me out of my cage, baby
He gives blood
To my dry veins.
Crimson, burnt with angelic virginity
Colliding into my poisoned demon passion with one heart beat
(And we crash)
B o o m
Pumping life into cracked rivers deep and ugly, violet with regret.
Heaving, my chest aches for his lily words to
Ease the pain
as the inevitability crashes around our bitter ankles
“Give me a smile”, rolls off his honey tongue and glides by my failed senses to
my past life
When I was a tigeress
Speaking only silence, tagged by ribbons of swift
Quick rips and sultry scents
Hidden golden coat
Camouflaged by dark streaks of deceit
In and out
Sucking the life out of his smiles
With one slicing glance
The greed in me kisses his amethyst magnificence
Giving blood to my dry veins
Carrying me on Paper Wings