Maybe she’s bored

There is razor wire woven within her demurity
Cunning, in the way she knowingly inclines her gaze
And even when her hand is caught in the bell jar
Her hypnotic onyx locks invite forgiveness

Duplicity parts her saffron lips, like an abattoir
You can see the honeyed lies drip bloodily on
A red nail between her pearly teeth, so sweet
Though, it’s only freshly painted with her words

Too beholden to stolen moments to notice
As graphite fingers smudge her pages darkly
Soiled of guilt and lust, the psychosis in her lines
Invite indelible stains to lie upon her sleeve

She claims to be inspired by her pet madness
Though, her madness will deny the accusation
There are muses she keeps hidden, to swell her legend
Which she’ll use and abuse to content her fragility

Yet, she needn’t sow these fertile fields of wolfsbane
Devotees devour her every denouement
Maybe she’s bored, madness curled around her finger
Maybe she swallows the poemed sky in delight

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński

Published by a.d.matthias

no w here

5 thoughts on “Maybe she’s bored

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