Thursday, April 21, 2011

3 words

Tatted on the back of her kneck
three words
I'll leave it to your imagination what three
Last I'd seen my hands were around her wind pipe
Stopping life using my frustration as a motive
Back of the neck
Thats a fine place to put a warning
Dominoes tumble tactfully to place me as the fool
like I knew the rules but still pursued with all my charms
No mark
No maker
& speaking like I'm carrying round a 30 days sober coin
She slithered into my world with out a worry
we lept into madness like it was a sincere gesture
Even though all the while those three words crept around
Like a specter
Could of been the trappings of irony
But I'm a cold hard product of me
I waited, whistled, waited to see
if the uinverse might fetch me my divine comedy
So as the world spun & is still spins
Her & I played with razor blades
danced in & out of revolving doors
Comfort came went but ya know rarely really would it come
All because of those 3 words
Any guess
I've sifted through my side stabbing remarks & suggestions to slowly find
Solace in my mistakes
As I remember wrenching squeezing twisting my fate
Only all the late to see those words inked out of plain site

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