She weaves a dress upon the loom, her neighbors knowing it's a shroud, window dressing for a tomb - she weaves a dress upon the loom. Forbidden fruit has scarred the womb, a stranger's face amidst the crowd, she weaves a dress upon the loom - her neighbors knowing it's a shroud.
When the lights snap out do you think of my breath, a hot map between your shoulders, disturbing memories and asking questions like we did in school? How many times has my image slipped between your sheets and kept you at the window, counting stars and cars, the highway owning us both. I would kiss your pulse - drink you down in those thick gulps that made you spin and grasp my fingers to keep us both
Four a.m is uneasy - time purloined and left hanging on the bed posts. You said I crowd your sleep, feet and hands slipping cotton, pulling dreams in paper streams like the nest of wasps growing restless in the tree.
Your legs make room for me, for the sound of weather happening on the roof, and warm the space above us, setting fire to the drapes again. Just let me feel your clavicle press under my hips where daylight squeezes in and hinges us.
So we both can waken slowly, you know, like kids in summer who long for everything to never end
How I hate her more than dried up lipstick, spam trying to sell. more than the bitter taste of milk gone to hell you want me to feel well And then you tell tell "don't worry about her trace on my cock and her blood on my heart we are no more, and broken appart"
How I hate her more than dolls prettier than mine. more than papercuts, maggots and people feelin "fine" you tell me it's over done and bye but I still see her in your eye eye it's such a lie lie
How I Hate Her More than sickness in a wound, kids gone mad. more than the worst past memory I've ever had you tell me she is dead eaten and decomposed, less than dust so..no more flirt flirt only playing with dirty dirt underneath her skirt
How I hate myself More than all the girls you ever slept with. more than roadkills, wasps on icecream and pants I can't fit you tell me you love me...alot.. almost as much as you loved her How... I hate everything I say How I hate to feel this way
Okie dokie... Well.. yess.. it's a poam.. about how I find myself hating someone... some girl... It's pure jealousy, or atleast my take on it.. The image is just a "to go with it" thing.. kinda like it though.... heck.. it's me in the shower wearing a dress... hmm...
Guess the hate gives me wings.. or something funny.