Poem: Burnt ash & perfume

You told me that you wanted to read the poems that I end up not posting to my website
You said those are probably the best ones
I just thought you didn’t like my writing
Move my hair behind my right side
This is it
That’s all I have
There’s really no more of me
I sing too
When I’m blue
You swallow me

I bought the prettiest pink shower curtain
With ruffles on the bottom
Only a few days before my cat shred it to death
Which I thought was rather tasteful
Now it looks like someone got in a bad fight
I’m in for a fright
You call me, you ask to spend the night
Yeah right

I’m in here
Surrounded by black claws and thin ballerina dolls
That play eery slow classical sounds and spin around
I’m the director of this facility
I scan every body and send them either left or right
I don’t like what I do
It frightens me what is done
After the bodies go to the right
It’s not right

I’m attached to you
But I can easily remove myself
I learned by watching you

This is really all I have for you
It doesn’t get better
So when you are cold, and you put on my sweater

I hope the smell of burnt ash & rose perfume is gone

Paranoid and proud (10,000)

Enigmatic, or desolate

I knock on your door slowly
Trembling
I don’t want to interrupt your work
You tell me to crawl over to the desk
I said babe, I’ve got a headache
My hair is a mess
I can’t pass your tests

I’m stupid and paranoid
None of your answers make sense
Where were you last Tuesday
Who was that in the car
You reach for another cigar
You’re the most beautiful boy but your personality is tar
You’re mean about my scars

A variation of you and me (but it’s just a fantasy)

The white roses have died
Is it me or my pride
That I always remind you of how my favorite man died
I know I’m a burden, I scream on the inside
Walking on eggshells
Tiny glass fragments
When you threw the vase at the wall because you couldn’t find your glasses
The white roses, they’ve died anyway
Entered a state of decay
Quite like I have, and it’s how I will stay
The light has left me, what do you make of my remains
I’m more revolting every day

Chaos and butterflies
Surprise me with flowers
Plant a tree every time you yawn when I talk about my interests
If this isn’t love or lust then what is this
Why do I sit on your lap every time you come around
How come I put my face to a pillow so that I don’t make a sound
How come you told me that the next time I get lost you hope I won’t ever be found
Like pitch black surround sound

I turn to the other side
I do my best to hide
Is that another exhibition of my pride?

You told me you loved to listen
You lied
Ten thousand times

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Instragram: @Lilacdovee

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