Sad Labels:
dark poetry
,
frailties
,
sad poems
,
sad poetry
the silence clutches her breath. a stray pebble in its fist.
no time to suffocate in a world as frantic as ours
we take the seldom paths. wanderers in fragile masks. chasing any remaining faces.
the syllables chafe her lips as her words speculate their trajectory.
the world hums under her skin. all wet paint and spoiled geography.
the fairy tales have their protagonists. salt and vinegar on raw abrasions.
the villains slumber on soiled sheets. while their victims feast on their mangled carcasses.
flesh tells its stories in limping words. a monster in a beautiful gown.
dancing with strangers.
to music no one else can hear.