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Neon

June 28, 2013

eightyfour

Beautiful eye.
Don’t I know it.
When I’m holding you down and fucking you senseless.
This is just a simile.
I’m so ugly when I drink.
Don’t I know it.
That relentless need to be adored.
When I’m bored of the things that you think.
Restless, apoplectic.
One more bite of the apple.
‘Til I’ve swallowed the seed.
Don’t you know it.
The same shit on a different night.
Strutting like a dead man walking.
Talking low like the victim.
Daedalus in the dark and diffident in the light.
Icarus falling straight into Golgotha.
Everything is alright.
Offering you a cigarette.
Knowing exactly.
What I want in return.
Which is why you’re the One.
As the smoke starts to curl
Before my beautiful eye.

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From → Poetry

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