deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fall
It's autumn,
I watch my face morph in the reflection of the lake that way I have something to blame when I don't recognize that face
It's autumn,
I learn he is married, and he is already undressing me
Leaving what feels like my bare bones naked,
exposed without permission to be skinned alive
It's autumn,
The tree's are lying next to me
I drift off and my body stays in character, awake, obedient to the intruder, "good bitch"
It's autumn,
I wonder if his hands feel like this to her too,
cuticles rough with passion pretending to be passion
If he feels like a trespasser you let in
It's autumn,
The trees are dying next to me
I wonder how she takes her coffee everything I look at mine,
I can't seem to stop pouring for her too
I hear the beauty of her name in every breath he temporarily holds captive,
And I dream of her in glass jars and in the bottom of the ocean,
safe and out of his reach
It's autumn,
He must have mastered the art of skinning because the trees have turned to bone so quickly
If she too can feel him under her nails and sewn in between her eyelashes when he has removed himself from in between her thighs
Cunts the grand prize
He has buried himself in her deepest parts and there is no room for her there too
It's autumn,
There is not enough room for all these bones
My body is starting to feel less and less like a body and more like a body bag that breathes,
And I am no longer worried if he goes too hard on me
I hear the silence screaming at me in the space inbetween his moans, "Have you reached the bottom yet? Felt the texture of the floor and the darkest parts you hide from yourself? Have you girl?!"
It's autumn,
You hide from yourself
You..you must mimic the sun
There is beauty in that
He tells me he misses me,
the touch of us,
that he loved the thought
I punch him in the mouth that had tried to devour me whole and admired his red
His very own shade of autumn
It's fall,
I fell and I did not notice
But at least I am not alone lying of the floor
It's autumn,
The trees have died with a piece of me,
And I guess there is beauty in that too
I watch my face morph in the reflection of the lake that way I have something to blame when I don't recognize that face
It's autumn,
I learn he is married, and he is already undressing me
Leaving what feels like my bare bones naked,
exposed without permission to be skinned alive
It's autumn,
The tree's are lying next to me
I drift off and my body stays in character, awake, obedient to the intruder, "good bitch"
It's autumn,
I wonder if his hands feel like this to her too,
cuticles rough with passion pretending to be passion
If he feels like a trespasser you let in
It's autumn,
The trees are dying next to me
I wonder how she takes her coffee everything I look at mine,
I can't seem to stop pouring for her too
I hear the beauty of her name in every breath he temporarily holds captive,
And I dream of her in glass jars and in the bottom of the ocean,
safe and out of his reach
It's autumn,
He must have mastered the art of skinning because the trees have turned to bone so quickly
If she too can feel him under her nails and sewn in between her eyelashes when he has removed himself from in between her thighs
Cunts the grand prize
He has buried himself in her deepest parts and there is no room for her there too
It's autumn,
There is not enough room for all these bones
My body is starting to feel less and less like a body and more like a body bag that breathes,
And I am no longer worried if he goes too hard on me
I hear the silence screaming at me in the space inbetween his moans, "Have you reached the bottom yet? Felt the texture of the floor and the darkest parts you hide from yourself? Have you girl?!"
It's autumn,
You hide from yourself
You..you must mimic the sun
There is beauty in that
He tells me he misses me,
the touch of us,
that he loved the thought
I punch him in the mouth that had tried to devour me whole and admired his red
His very own shade of autumn
It's fall,
I fell and I did not notice
But at least I am not alone lying of the floor
It's autumn,
The trees have died with a piece of me,
And I guess there is beauty in that too
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 1
comments 7
reads 761
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.