Doesn't Believe In Angelsmature
Tinsel princess, shimmering like a diamanté watch,
Eyes gleaming with Disney sentiment and half-chugged vodka;
A vacuous bargain. Dressed to the nines, and the twelves,
And the fours in the morning; lost in an enchanted slumber
With seagulls biting at her ears, drawing festered blood.
Hairspray and vomit, she is holding herself together,
A nest out of broken combs,
Drowning in piss.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Doesn't Believe In Angels, which
was posted on Dec 5, 2011 by
Miserabilia.
This is a solo poem.
Some rights reserved.
This poem is filed under:
Free Verse, Imagery, Just for Fun
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