Your tawdry cheapness
Tempts me
Your promises of
Lasting gothic glory
Taunt me

Why do you run
When I need you to stay?
Why do you cling
When I want you to go away?

I long to scrub you
From my wasted flesh
But though I scour
Your death wax residue
Will not be washed clean

Though water proof
Yet not sweat proof
You prove to be
Soap proof

Tags: glistening, goth, rage, skin

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 15th, 2009 at 2:20 PM and is filed under Unspeakable. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.