Baptism of fireMature

 

Baptism of fire

 

The only thing I would alter, is this damn couch

I want to watch it burn, slowly

Watch the fabric curl as it blackens and burns away

And the coils melt and cool into metallic pools

This piece of furniture has bared witness to so much

Remained steadfast in its silence

It never even creaked as it bared the weight of his absence

Silence a heavy penance, for what?

I’ll never really know…

 

He said he missed hanging with me

Just hanging on that fucking couch

That fucking dog eared couch

I’m so tired of just sitting on that sofa and waiting for their eyes to shift direction

They always stare at the big screen

Laugh at the one liners

It’s all one liners

Clichés stuck in my couch cushions

 

Feeling me up before the credits roll

This couch has seen condom rappers

But never had the decency to warn me of real safety

How one can feel as if a sunrise is expanding through their chest cavity

And the one mutters something about the hour

Complain about the parking

Or the lingering ex wife

Kiss me on the forehead

And I’m left sitting on that couch watching the dvd menu flicker by

Options slide across the screen

Bouncing off the corners, over and over

Zigzagging its way out of patterns and parallels

 

So, let this love seat burn

I’ll trample down the ashes

Bury the surviving wood chips into the mire

and packing the ground flat

No one can know the memories this couch carries

Too many secrets to uphold

Only this couch knows what I would have said

Love is isn’t the shame

The shame is falling again

Flopping on this couch as if it’s all so lackadastickal

Again and again

A repetition of the same old rendition of infatuation

Only to relate, only to relate

And for all that longing and loneliness

That cunt can burn.

The End

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