Blue strokes which reach to sharp ditches
and back up again
clutter the page arrogantly,
turning sincerety into a childish attempt.
And lines like awkward water
scoff from beneath at
execrable errors, with
piercing blue arrows making a hole in the page.
Careless fingers smudge like night smudges
the clean day,
ominous, oily black marks
sprawled across hot white.
And the end cackles in its throat,
curled scrawl slanting,
contaminating the entirety.
And numbers cling to the paper
with their claws, standing upright
and murderously coherant.
Misspelt collections of letters
lie comforatbly on pearly sand.
So to tattoo someone's saliva on paper
is just as good as sticking your own
finger down your throat.
Blue eyes boring into
pretty flesh does not a thing.
It goes on shimmering and glittering
even in the most dirty of nights,
my paleness glinting with unhealthiness.
written: Monday 31st May, 2004, 3:40pm
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 321