deepundergroundpoetry.com

Amy

[Acrostic]

And I loaned my body, my mind and my blood to you.
And you snapped it
and I licked up the new wounds and made gold of them
with a deal
with a devil
with his minions and his dragon.
Everything found it's way back to you,
everything lit in the shot after shot after shot -
everything was seen and unsavoury and stolen.
You were a flame,
you were a moment so fleeting yet promised for the ever,
you were a fallacy.
Had I been more willing,
had I been more strong,
had the papers and the media not feasted so heavy, so hard.
Taken were the years before me,
taken, put up for ransom and sold,
taken in a haze of disenchantment.
I knew there was no way back from the ridge.
I enjoyed it too much and
I loved, loved, ached for you.
Lost in the clouds and crowds,
lost in the dark evenings and the words that fell from me.
Lost like a game of cards, I was.
My obsession with possession,
my need to be possessed, to be undressed and
my want to escape gave me to them.
Soul was something I knew I had, natural, like.
Soul oozed from me in spades, a never-ending glassful.
Soul was all I had left, it died in a pipe with a needle and a drink.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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