Dancers echoed their movements onto the pavement
Footprints she didn’t dare make
Because the music played for them
An opposition of the silencing horror on her lap
Shapes walked upright mocking her circle
And she was left running on bloody feet towards nothing
Underneath the kisses of last choice, the tattoo burned into her fantasy skin
The line of standards was long, marking her absence in a jarring red
Sleepless under the moon with a fork in her throat
The ceiling paved white nothingness with no animated out
Into the witching hour of emptiness
Her hands have nothing in the chubby unwanted palms
The death lingers in the past and threatens her future on ropes
Dangling like puppets of warning
No tourniquets only dripping premonitions
Crawling on dirt to no sound
Musical backdrops are for them
The bones , the pretty, the approved of
Dirt tasted like failure and nothing in her unwanted mouth
Alone in silence she fell
Rolled into a muddy bedding of rejection
Copyright 2020 cyni poeti
#cynipoeti #poetry #poems #depression #poets
#cynipoeti #poetry #poems #depression #poets
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