You're Invited...

the Charade is Calling Lovers to Come out tonight. Grab their Hips, and Kiss their hands. Falsify their Secret Plans with Fibs, and Folklore Foolery. Draw Circles of Deceit on Hearts that Swallow Whole. Dye the pigments of Oxygen Deprived skin. Ornament my Limbs w/Superficial things. Bandage my neck, and shove me in the Circus Ring. Spotlight my Flaws and Slice open my Shins.

Lie with Sweat Rolling down over your eyes, but Keep the Contact Smooth and Uninterrupted. Keep it Shallow and Keep on Touching. Put together some Syllables and Keep on Fucking. Bestow upon their Ears gifts full of Nothing.

Taste her Tears, and Hear him Bluffing. The Jokers die Laughing, before the Joke is even Delivered. On-lookers look Apathetic, and wait for the Come On to Roll off her Gullible Tongue. They wait for the Sorrow to Disprove nothing could Possibly be Wrong.

Keep it self-centered, and keep Mouths Occupied. Speak nothing Pertinent to Future Feelings Exposed with Sunshine. The Night lasts Just Long Enough to keep Your Narcissism alive.

Charade

Charade

 

Charade

Lets all go out and Play. They always have Quick-Fix Remedies and those oh-so-lovely Melodies. Punch spiked with Lust and Perspiration. And Linens to rest Your Pretty Head. That Corporal Amusement for a Soul already Dead. In Need of Things Disguised and things Forgotten which will Never be Again Said. The Masquerade will Stop for me Today. That's what i Tell Myself when i Go to Bed. The Blankets will Cover my Feelings and Cover our Heads.

 

X’s and Oh’s; not so much the Former nor Ladder.

these contact lenses can't grasp Anything Tangible through all the Film and Grime. it's Materialized. Staring up at you from underneath my eyes. Millions of snippets of clips flicker on the screen. arms Crossed in their reflection, Inattentive to the scenes.

in lieu, Dissecting chipped paint Running off the basement walls and Frivolous dust-bunnies dancing around my feet. Carcinogen Kissed Smoke Unpretentiously makes them and you Retreat towards unscathed recliners and love-seats.

What a Shame for Apprehensive lips to try to kiss Disengaging necks that spoke of Earlier Promised Mockeries of Love?, dare i say the word. I'm Treading over the skeleton and bones my skin Craves to hug. you're Tactfully detached in box office hits and movie soundtracks.

Forlorn Fingertips attempt to affect your Inept Stability. a beating of a Corpse lying beneath me. and Lying right to me, and Through me.

Off.