Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Swallow gasoline, play with fire, rinse and repeat

She was never red, red wine,
Not as her lips would have you believe.
The stark comparison of black and pale,
The eyes blue, offsetting the picture.
Climbing higher, her morals breach and tumble.
Like a monster giving birth,
The baby is a bigger regret than the process it
Went through to become an idea.
Throw it in the fire,
The sparks and embers can be parental.
Cut out the tongue, whining not permitted.
The stain of darkness in her eyes
Blots out any hope for the future
As she dines on false hopes.
Too many pills, or maybe, too many sharp objects
And she can whittle away the hours
Through sleazy word of mouth.
Time ticks on, she rubs more lipstick around that mouth
And convinces herself that she's beautiful.
But beauty does not reside in a tube of crimson lipstick,
And so her tears escape and she claims
That ugly is all she can be.

9-27-11


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Swallow gasoline, play with fire, rinse and repeat

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