First Words

Belated words fall upon

her neglected skin

voiced by abandoned lips

well practised in sin

calling for fresher poisons

because the old ones aren’t sinking in

They flake for change

someone to read

the trails of silence left in her wake

she looks like dirty glass begging to be smashed

What madness is this?

Crawling toward the entrance of

forbidden impulses, the vault

where lies the legend

to all these encryptions

polished alibis, stains of a forgotten mind

black as white

watch as she fades

a books dissolved into chapters

bleed into pages

crumbled into cut off sent-

let us taste

the residue of her last words

I did this to myself

I did this for myself.  

The End

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