PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

i slept in a bed thats a revolving door - poem

Tuesday, Sept. 03, 2002


i dreamt of a man that doesnít exist anymore
scraped off the semen
like the salt i walked in at the shore
you got stuck in my fingernails
trapped in my hair
grabbed through my trust
And laughed in my stare

i slept in a bed thatís a revolving door,
i got stuck on the welcome mat,
wiped off like a whore.

now love doesnít live
where love doesnít exist
mor does it live here
amongst the constant resist
didnít hide away clothes
nor shared the wine of my flesh
but you still raped me
more than the less

the falsetto of tears
you wiped with your lie
the come gather here
and go ahead cry

why play a game
when the mortar is set
why give to take away
what I canít even give
when I havenít received as of yet

you slept and you snored
and your hands were all skeletal
i dropped to my knees
on a floor as the door rattled
i cried in my mind
i rolled on your sheets
for a peace i thought i could find

just a bad scribble of text
dribbled paper unlined
you walked me out
with a kiss on the cheek
i glanced at your eyes
dark
it was just the evil
in the way i wanted
something from no one
and how now youíre just no one
youíre no one to keep

now nothing is nothing
and there was just nothing to gain
i keep searching for something
and this is making me insane
itís a bicycle iím peddling to nowhere
this pathetic search for explain

iím the cause of my horror
my own sorrow
should hate me
because i am the only
fuck-up to blame

-PoeticaL

"a" big mistake trusting someone ďrealĒ
12:48 a.m. ::
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