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soft dollsYou are still the soft doll The plaything you always wanted to be But will never admit since Youve frayed the ribbons set in your hair. But smiles still flash Blinding onlookers You still prance through As though know one could touch you. Or your soft façade Your skin a pale china Foreign citys on your tongue Charitys beneath your belt You are eyes full of dreams You where never a schemersoft dolls
Swear by words so hollow echoing when they hit the floor No one cares about facts Anymore You beat me At the game Us girls play &nbs
by ~shatterthepane
i'velostmyselfinawildmachinei am not allowed to advertise your affectioni'velostmyselfinawildmachine
a wolf whispered in my mouth. revealing secrets in his masquerade i am given the applause that i needed to get off the stage and stop performing tricks
i stumbled shook me, told me not to ache i lie still poisoned me and told me not to grow ill
with you under private eyes i am told not to love
you sell the show that you say you don't loathe but you can't walk away even in the rain when the water revealed the lines on your face an
by ~shatterthepane
pressure cookerpoorly portrayed a sad excuse for happiness? I've tried sitting alone and i've tried public perversionpressure cooker
but nothing really seems to digest i've thought it through I've thrown it up I've looked down on it I've adored this angel from every angle but i don't think i can capture it at a glance to examine or endanger? is neither the answer
an irresistible abyss i enter i swear it was consensual until perhaps i've thought it over or drowned it under a reality so lucid i thought it was a dream, i'll sleep 18 hours a day if only to walk about in my own mind. do
by ~shatterthepane
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Lackluster((heartbound rail car full of polarized emotions to bounce off each other in bursts of compressed, shimmering air, confusing the driver. who is the driver? maybe the Devil and a Cowboy, all washed out, like dirty paintbrush water, and they don't speak to each other, and one doesn't ever look up from the map. cigarette-stained fingers rub steam from the windows and mirrors. where does the steam come from? a solid hope to obscure the poisoned street? does the end justify the means?Lackluster
each of the passengers carries a coal mine canary. it's a long, dirty, dism
by ~ELSmith
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