Outdated Beauty

 
 Littered words spill, from
my mouth, their shredded
edges makes them look
 lovely I think, a modernistic
work of art  
  
Sewn together like left
over stained glass from
hells chapel  
Chips,  of lead paint covers
my eyes with  Irritation,
under my lids  leaveing
bloodshot veins to hang,  
from my sockets .
  
Dangle, touching my
 parched  cheek in need,
of your moisture.  
Lick me where I need it
most, you never will.  
  
I can't feel,  through this
decaying  memory, of what
was never good  
My organics replaced with
 petrified unworthiness  
polished to a fine luster.  
  
Sign post,  for me to lean
on direction unknown
for now,
  River weeds with their  
annoying fluff I hack, from  
 my throat,  sounds like
 love,  from a distance.  
  
Frequencies on the FM
station say my name,  in
 vulgar tones  mock  my
 existence  
 Still,  I decorate myself with
broken vintage jewels,    
admiring what I've put
together, from leftover pieces  
Of gold filled adornment.  
  Valuable to someone who  
collects outdated beauty