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Published: 2009-11-11 03:25:55 +0000 UTC; Views: 63; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 2
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I wanted to believe I could be your salvationSo I watched from outside, as I sold myself,
In ten pounds of make-up to catch your raven eyes.
I wanted to believe you were a good person
So I ignored the bodies in the dumpster
I accepted your hand, with what could be called,
A sham of apprehension, so your preyingpreying eyes
Wouldn't spot my eager Cheshire grin.
Or was it you, who had the striped feline's fangs?
I knew I was acting outside the realm of the sensible.
In this den supported by lies, supported by the knife catalogs
Or at least they supported our mattress.
Just as you supported the underground scene,
You, your masquerade of gentlemanly grace
Full of allusions to tick-tocking oranges
Your violent heyday, harbinger of malady
My own persona of romantic misery
For I will never forget the day
Coming home.
The body, the body, the blood, the reconnaissance
As you searched the pants of a dead man, for who knew what
Glancing up, your cavalier façade.
Not a word. Not word.
Your lack of humanness, as your dagger point lips spoke,
"At least I didn't stain the carpet."