A Beautiful Suicide
All I wanted was a piece of beauty, to remind me what it was like. To be happy, to
feel lovely, to have everything in mind. All I wanted was to have that dream, to be
wrapped in love and lace and silk. But I was holding my ribbon noose, waiting
for the affects of your oleander milk.
Standing on the edge, practically devoured. I never thought there was such a
feeling. To be hated, to be wanted, to have everything receding. Owned by the
edge, controlled by your feeling. Your kiss is dry, but sweet, and I can feel my lips
peeling back.
Beautful suicide, completely my control. Feeling that everything falls into place,
but I’m only sixteen years old. I love the glitter and the jewel incrusted eyes, but
maybe the patterns are a part of your disguise. You tricked me into following the
forest edge, now I stand upon the silver grass on which I sing my pledge.
Standing on the edge, practically devoured. I never thought there was such a
feeling. To be hated, to be wanted, to have everything receding. Owned by the
edge, controlled by your feeling. Your kiss is dry, but sweet, and I can feel my lips
peeling back.
What is it I can thank you for, when you slapped my mouth as if I asked for more.
Is it thanks to you for pushing me, with pain to be all I can see? Is this the price of
belonging to you, is this all we have left? Everyone’s gone, left to sing their own
songs, we should have guessed.
Standing on the edge, practically devoured. I never thought there was such a
feeling. To be hated, to be wanted, to have everything receding. Owned by the
edge, controlled by your feeling. Your kiss is dry, but sweet, and I can feel my lips
peeling back.
Sweet sixteen, can leave a girl tangled in her messy curls, only thinking it‘s gone.
Mangled up, left lying there, asking why no one cares, about what happens to
her. Sleeping in his room each day, asking god why it’s been me, that’s been left
behind. Every moment passes by, leaving me alone to cry. Tell us what is wrong.
Copyright © Lisa Barton | Year Posted 2005
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