Betwixt The Porcelain Skin
The floor falls through ceilings
And exposes distressful feelings
Shedding light on skin crafted from porcelain
Yearning for the final brush to paint completion
Gently subdued by the tightening heartstrings
The paint entices solace and what a loving embrace brings
To fall in and out of completion
Anything to caress her porcelain skin
The irony is that the skin is speech
A beauty that you simply cannot bleach
All I could ask for in this world
Is to have her heart split open and unfurled
She won't believe her loving mind
When I found the contract was pre-signed
And the schematics to the soul were obsolete
A machine I could have never hoped to compete
In the light her putrid words landing may sting
Spilling my soul to her as venomous offering
For her I wonder what the future may bring
But in the end I know she is my solution to everything
















Comments
A machine I could have never hoped to compete'
I love that, seriously.
Beautiful!
Very bittersweet.
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"Mark my words comrade, one day things will change; We will take the fight to their land, to their people, to their blood."
I don't receive much feedback on my writing - and what I do receive, is very unpredictable. Thank you.
I was in my darkest moments while writing this. I needed a glimpse of hope, and all I need to do is think of what I can't have.<3
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Well, they do say that if you could have it, you might not necessarily want it anymore.
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"Mark my words comrade, one day things will change; We will take the fight to their land, to their people, to their blood."
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