Depraved
As dust doth settle upon your casket
I do not weep, mine eyes remain dry
as the warmest summer days on land
And though those around me stare
I know in confusion
For they have not seen inside you
or myself, as we do
Thy ears perk at hissing, while eyes unfocused in panic
For a split second on your resting box
From your grave, I keep waiting for your fist
waiting for venomous words to spew forth from your lips
Lips I had abandoned, for no matter the love I gave
through the good, through the bad
Bad turned a tad too much as my bones broke,
muscles ripped bared screams from fattened lips
Today, standing with dry eyes I tell myself again
The past was just pretend
T'was just a story I had read but months ago
A tale, A nightmare of pretense
Copyright © Melisa Karpinske | Year Posted 2017
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