Sunday, September 2, 2012

The Darkest Shadow in My Blood



The darkest shadow in my blood
forgot how love felt
as he wrote eulogies
for the old hearts;
burned down
his childhood home
hunting the demons
of his eyes
but always overlooked
that his eyes are demons.
Dreamt in a car crash
of whiskey and flames
since sorrows seem ever sorry
and sexy women buried him alive
so far down
that he found the devil's cellar
above him.

The darkest shadow in my blood
slept on broken glass
but couldn't sleep alone;
demolished the vastness
of his own happiness;
followed a savior
who never knew she placed him
in perfect madness
yet gave his pain
luxury.

I met him once
on the floor
flirting with death
and an angel
to score a threesome.
He had fallen for three years
just to go somewhere.
He was a Van Gogh
of vices.

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