Julie-de-Waroquier@DeviantArt
Our hearts are bent
Like pennies on a track
An effigy to pain,
Irrelevant as candlesticks
Behind yellow tape,
We who are in
A constant state of extremity
Cannot breathe when idle
My hands are the Devil’s soldiers
They run on enigma and ash
Between the two of us
I’d rather change
The distance of necessity
Being itself a form of resurgence
I am the Judas to your martyrdom
The spreader of chaos and suspense
My loathsome angels
Hasten toward oblivion
You in powder blue turn aside
Your sententious facades
Embrace the scythe-eyed construct
The copper fruit of the conversant
No one speaks
With their eyes anymore
It’s all wilted daises
And chemical interventions
What’s the use of flesh
In this synthetic domain?
The platform is scarred
And if you knew me
You’d recognize the beast
Within these variegated lines
Pretty doesn’t persist
In the eyes of a stranger
Give your heart only
To those willing
To reveal their defects
*
Full of anxiety, my mind is all over the place hence this strange little poem. The candlestick bit refers to Clue because it was a common murder weapon. I was totally obsessed with Clue when I was a child/teen.
mindlovemisery 