Envy

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Envy

Her obsidian hair stalls on the floor.

A smile conforms to her glossy wax lips.

“Tell me again how it’s me you adore.”

His fingers measure the slant of her hips.

But something lodged in the back of his mind

Makes him quake to think she’s slipping away.

It punctured a hole in his heart to find

The bold, black letters on her phone that day.

Oh, he could just murder her for this crime,

Wrap her guts and organs around a spool.

He never would imagine all this time

That his girl was playing him for a fool.

 

He looks down at her with those tear-glazed eyes,

Before his lips gasp a scornful “Goodbye”.

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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spectrevampire’s Poems (9)

Title Comments
Title Comments
You and Me 0
It Will Be Summer Soon 0
Fairy Spring 0
Dead Idols 0
Bird of Prey 0
Envy 0
Derail 0
Afternoon with Mrs. Sanders 0
Bride from the Spring 0