deepundergroundpoetry.com

St. Seldom-There

She had that pail look
I spoke in familiar song
Then asked her what was wrong
Not a word spoke she
at first
Then her guts spilled with every verse

"I'm caught in her vice
She describes me as head-lice
She says she's the only one
To tuck me in, and praise me
But she just doesn't phase me
Not anymore, I told her I died long ago
I washed up off the sea shore
My hair dyed by the sea
She just looks through me
And pissed in my linen-face
And defiled my baby-soft skin
Denied she that it was her
I've never been blind, nor pure


You're no heroine, tho' you do heroin
You got your's, don't give me mine
I'm three years old, I can't see or speak
I'm passed naked and cold, I'm so bleak
Blood in my candles, cradling my dead-skin
I tried, I left you a mannequin
You can't hurt it, as I drift as a dying leaf
I'll keep you alive, the part's I like
Day dreaming on your pouch
Sitting in my solitude chair
Not a word spoke you, but the stare
Destitute eye's shine such despair
Love isn't fair, you've shown me
Hatred is cruelty's darkest minion
What's not fair? Not war, not love
Not St. Seldom-There
She's just a flare
Of undertones of discontent
I tried to forgive, forget



I tell you now, I can't tell you more
Every breath's a razor death-edge
I'll pass along as cigarette smoke
To someone else's lung to choke"

She's never said another word
I doubt she ever really could.
Written by anonymouslyhere (Pariah Shadow)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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