deepundergroundpoetry.com
indigo woman
with lips sewn up
she still contrives
to show you her teeth
taken up taken in
with your quirky ideas
she's the one
you turn to
needing comfort
finding grief
if you must
kill her slowly
it's better
to watch her toss and turn
blinking her eyes in confusion
when you've pinned her
up on your wall
the force of her hand is a joy
the spit on your cheek
is a blessing
when a kiss is a bore
she talked you into
string on your fingers
she's a child
she just wants to play with her toys
she's a demon
she just wants to fuck other boys
she's a con
she's not what she showed you at all
she's a martyr
her pride's in how far she can fall
and people say she doesn't know
it's so funny she has no idea she
doesn't know
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