The laces broke,
As though someone had run a knife through her back and pulled against her,
She felt a stroke,
That which had saved her was at the end of her tether.
The sheet slid off down to the stone,
She sensed his eyes tracing the outline of the v-shaped smile,
He was of the unknown,
Yet she empathised with his guile.
Out of the socket,
The string fell to the cement,
It emerged from his pocket,
That flowery scent.
The wax thawed,
Gloomy ambience,
Down he gnawed,
It struck her at once;
The acquiescence.

















Comments
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Soon...very soon...it will begin.
PROJECT GENESIST - [link]
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Do you think it at all possible for us to maybe just completely disregard that last statement?
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Everyone feels a certain way for a reason, when you read a persons poem youre glimpsing at their very soul
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DevianTART
But thanks anyway
ps. I love reading your journal entries (even though I don't always comment on them)
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DevianTART
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DevianTART
Oh really? ;D Thank you! I'll have to try and write more of them, then. Things have been rather busy and art has been put at a stand still. It's been a stretch for me just to get in poetry. xD
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Do you think it at all possible for us to maybe just completely disregard that last statement?
Rawr.
I can't wait to read the story this is attached to.
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DevianTART
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