Masquerade

Dim lights and mirrors
and cotton sheets
are what I think of when I run,
while every muscle aches
and begs me to stop.
The lamps on the streets come to life
and I wonder
about the fireflies
and where they went;
anything that will distract me
from my body screaming
stop.
Chocolate and wine and lies I want to hear
are promised by the wind
kissing my face
and drying the sweat soaking my thin shirt.
But I am miles away thinking now about
crystal glasses and lipstick
and a dress I’ll slip out of,
leaving a trail of
perfume
and broken false hearts.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. The Priestess of Q
    Nov 19, 2012 @ 12:42:29

    Woah. Hardcore.

    Reply

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