it's like kissing a smoking gun
sear your lips with the mockery you make of life
as you count the lies like sheep
[if only this were a dream]
sketch your spurious smiles and liquid empathy
on a cracked canvas of forget-me-nots and lost love notes
as I hand you the blade and hold out my wrists
hoping that this time you'll leave my heart out of it
such a stupid child am I
to look into your limpid limelight of delusion
and follow your checkerboard reality to whenever
dressed in khaki coated persuasions
as I hang by a string of denial
your words cut like knives of diamonds
so please, sever me from your strand of hope
Copyright 2005 Jon Rodgers
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/98/67081 on Saturday November 22nd, 2008 11:28 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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