pushpins to the lace betrayal
and the sopped up love
she pretends is her own.
she wrings it out of a dirty cloth
and pretends she means what she says.
carne de metal I can understand. 020216
neverender the truth that drives divine madness through her being
as the words intertwine and tangle to form a noose
choking every last sigh and utter out of her throat
hands bound behind her back with intangible rope
words, woven and twisted in knots
the truth, a victim of bondage
slaved and tortured by the master within
bittersweet interlude, tied up and nude
yearning and aching to bare the honesty
concealed by her rope of words [...or bullshit]
prevents her to speak the truth
that of which she_cant_confess.
phil today 020729
what's it to you?
who go