You’re not her; transplant

it’s that transparent you’re blind calling it fake
you stand there denying everything
cat with the whiskers
fuck your cake
crying wolf in the field
playing ladders and snakes
innocence in nursery rhymes
replaced to ground zero fade
congealed pouring in vessels
but it’s okay
as long as you get laid

am I not enough of a reason for you to stay
infinitely more than fifty shades of grey
what kind of pure love is made that way
it’s your loyalty that’s unfolded
faltered, floundered, unfounded, confounded
without being reprimanded
man down did you miss a round
when God was giving out his halo clay
a flick of your wrist
and your sin concludes the way we relate
trusting you was my mistake

solely for my soul to make
after an exhibition of wishing renditions
you ditch me in the wilderness of omitted oblivion
like I’m nothing to your commitment to you’re one in a million
something was itching
missing within an inch of your distance
belittling unforgivens living misgivings
indirect submissions in armfuls of make-believe hate
and whatever it is you say
your ambiguous decisions weren’t
and are not in my name

we edge through the same hunger
always aiming the same game
but you’re too tame to take on the full blame
you keep your fingers burning in a sick sticky flame
the effect of neglecting what keeps making you sane
it’s by my grace you’re alive today
you will weep by my grave
when you realise things won’t be the same again
at a point when you’re ready to run and win a worthy race
when you have the strength to play hard and serve that swerving ace

you’ll drop at the first hurdle
and that racket you’re holding
will nail you to the stake
you’re afraid, a fraud and a slave,
you’re a flake,
but not the snow kind, mate,
a slow wind is now once upon a never time
picking off singed skin licking wounds that aren’t mine
not my burden to carry but I still fight for you over that picket line
my chameleon wings
a phoenix brings
a seventh wake
floating on an ocean deeper than a plasticated meditative state

replica slate
a particular wait weights
writing on silicone walls of written fate
rewritten with the same too little too late
not again
another lame maim
which contradicts every heartbeat you ever made
every kiss you stated
with your tongue wrapped in only my name
became an empty heaven
a paradise lost to shame,
your promise you demolished
as if I was dirt in your way
slay me away in a day
after years in the stay
of a protective display
defending come what may

our blessings and dreams
everything turns into sour cream
and I hate the taste of your name in my pray
I’m sick to my back teeth of nonchalant seeds
and once where we were everything
our souls just now bleed
and you act like you’re free
like it’s the wind singing out on your sweet summer breeze
but it’s these demons calling you to be
who you’re not meant to be.

ink is free, so...

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