The Open Book Full Of Lies: A Poem

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The words and flavours that burst

Out of your mouth, across your

Humid lips, reeked of exaggerations and

Untamed theatricality. Smacking the

Hot dogs of your flesh together, the pleasure

You exploit, resenting the bodies that gave in to

You and your tormented desires, your greed.

 

You look like a little boy now.

The outer adapted to the inner.

Death started in your throat.

Your rancid face behind a glass wall.

The bouncy lap, the detached embrace,

Forced and necessary, but you were never

Present.

 

They pray on their knees

And I turn my back on you,

These worlds are not compatible,

Your masks and your faces,

Eros and Thanatos, you constructed it that way.

 

Your helpless double lives.

I had been born into a cobweb

Sticky with intrigue and lies.

 

Trying to burst your bubbles

So that I could breathe.

You ran after me,

Addicted to the infliction of pain,

Grabbing my feet,

Smashing curses across my face.

 

I was raised by a predator.

I believed that I could find affection

In your depths,

But all I found was a torture chamber

Operating at full speed and power.

 

My tears taste of you.

My skin carries the weight of your insults

And chicanery.

My hair smells of your self-hatred.

My eyes harden when I think of you.

 

The dying grimace, the face that rests,

In sadness and a polyphony of lost voices.

woman behind a grass
Photo by Dids on Pexels.com

 

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