deepundergroundpoetry.com
Black Dress
there you stand
clothed in a black dress
tightened corset
and an ashy bow
your prized possession
you keep it neat
you stitch it’s holes
with sable thread
even with your unbrushed hair
even with that crooked grin
you’re not a mess
because you wear a black dress
I ask who made it
I wonder how you got it
it fits so well
it flatters you
you must’ve created it
you’re a talented seamstress
I try my best to look
as beautiful as you
but I don’t have a black dress
I don’t own any needles
and if I ever sewed
I’d certainly prick myself
here I stand
a feeble silhouette
shaking in the cold
swaying with the wind
I must be naked
my skeleton aches
you robbed me of my innocence
give me back my black dress
clothed in a black dress
tightened corset
and an ashy bow
your prized possession
you keep it neat
you stitch it’s holes
with sable thread
even with your unbrushed hair
even with that crooked grin
you’re not a mess
because you wear a black dress
I ask who made it
I wonder how you got it
it fits so well
it flatters you
you must’ve created it
you’re a talented seamstress
I try my best to look
as beautiful as you
but I don’t have a black dress
I don’t own any needles
and if I ever sewed
I’d certainly prick myself
here I stand
a feeble silhouette
shaking in the cold
swaying with the wind
I must be naked
my skeleton aches
you robbed me of my innocence
give me back my black dress
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