CRYING MARIONETTE

CRYING MARIONETTE" (Wirtten October 2009)

It’s hard. To be the discards of a full heart that loves you. So use to being used and it somehow felt so good to be abused, by her beautiful evil. Her tears of poison I kissed away. I couldn’t stay away though I’ve always known, I have to stay the hell away. 

Her voice is like honey laced cyanide. I’ve tried and tried, existed and survived, without her toxic affection that left me addicted. But my veins are the strings she pulls and yanks. She sank her hypodermic fangs into my arms and now my soul sings of hell and fire. Such masochistic desire. She tells me that she loves me but she’s such a fucking liar. Still, I can’t help but to believe her. My beautiful deceiver. It rips my skin off, that I smell men on her. That she thinks I don’t smell their stink on her. But her tears, I just can’t help but to drink off her. 

It’s hard. To be the discards of a full heart that loves you. So use to being used and it somehow felt so good to be abused, by her beautiful evil. Her tears of poison I kissed away, I couldn’t stay away though I’ve always known, I have to stay the hell away. 

But by her side I stay. Enraptured by blissful ache. No mistake she makes can be so great that my love would break. Together we stand hand in hand, until this world is reduced to air and sand. Oblivion being our inevitable fate. 

She holds the reigns to my soul. My very veins she controls and I twist for her, dance for her, making love to her while drowning in this dark romance, for her. Does she love me or the bane in her arms as she moans my name? Either way, I’m the one that answers her. 

Now, I’m but a hollow husk of my former glory. No one left to cry for me, just as no one can be moved from an untold story. Just me in a dark corner of an alley with her in my arms, nearing our finale.

My veins dry, cracked and bleeding, pleading for their feeding. Both of us sweating and soiled in the shadows of today, crying for yesterday and knowing we won’t live to see tomorrow. She never had a tomorrow. Just excruciating pain and overpowering sorrow. 

No one pulling my strings anymore. No one to score for me or to score for. No one to be the pimp or the whore for. No one to hate to love, or love to hate anymore. Hell is having no one to be there for you, or to be there for. No one.

I couldn’t stay away from the sweet death she brought. The sweet death she bought. I still love her with everything I’ve got, no matter the hell she wrought. In my life. She’s my lover, my friend, my enemy, my teacher, my student, my wife. My life. Totally entertwined. Now she’s gone and I know, I won't be far behind. My life is done. Hell here I come.

It’s hard. To be the discards of a full heart that loves you. So use, to being used and it somehow felt so good to be abused by her beautiful evil. Her tears of poison I kissed away, I couldn’t stay away though I’ve always known, I should’ve stayed the hell away. Hell here I come.

This poem is about drug addiction and being a slave to it. It is a poem about an addict in love with another addict and the oblivion this love often brings.