Pangs of what was barely left of me
Reaching for a sword I swore was left
Yet no weapon was there.
Stranded on a bed of nails
Sat on the shore for hours
Whispering everything he ever said to me In every language I knew
I closed my eyes for a moment
Remembered a dance he took me to
I wore a large pink dress
Showing cleavage enough to keep him interested
I could still feel his hand on my waist
As he twirled me around the room.
Thought at the time we were like two mirrors
Facing one another
And every time he twirled me around
I could see us in these huge mirrors on the wall
And thought it would be like this forever.
Then I remembered
He never danced with me at all.
A momentary glance at reality
Leaves me starkly alone
Instead of looking at love as setting you free
I look at it as keeping you prisoner.
Instead of looking at lust as a beautiful emotion
I look it as a fleeting temporary one, at best.
Falling, to me, has a much different meaning
Than it does to those that have fallen into it gracefully.
In stark contrast to my dreams
My reality Is boring
What you require
What you toy with
What you desire Is not my flesh
Not my beautiful broken self..
You want my dreams.