What's better than an apocalypse that unhinges intense passion | Every Day Poems
What's better than an apocalypse that unhinges intense passion, abandon you marooned on a starstruck island? You can bend beneath a grandeur, sink at the grace of your villainess, pull strings with foxy lips. Raging crimson tempest whispers to me of my hunger. I press my eyes tight, cover my shoulder blade from the moon although I know I can't obscure who I am. At times my mind tells me it is going to be a good riddance, that she won't come back to haunt me, but who am I kidding? Whatever this is, it is going to stay eons and only the potential that it would take my spirit bare to erase her from my stars would give me some rest. Don't you know my skin craves daggers it can be impaled with?
What's better than disappearing in the summer of your birthday, the sadness ebbing away the sight of her wine dress at the exhibit, but I know it is not gone. I can feel her lurking around here somewhere, longing to immerse herself in me, engrain everything that she wants me to be. The bad girls in the theaters, stealing beauty and wit from innocent lasses at the bell of midnight scream at me to avenge them, to put down their names in history as the broken gone rouge but most of all stronger than the steel they pierced their purity with. Don't you know I have a mission, a pursuit of bloody mary nights?
