Dark Poetry
Here's some poetry that some people have labled "sick."
Draw Your Razor Blade
Draw your razor blade across my wrist,
In the early days,
Watch the blood drip to the floor.
Mirrored in this red, red puddle
Are all my dreams you ever held
And crushed between your hands.
Draw your razor blade down my back,
Watch the rivers form.
Drowning in these red, red lines
Is the love you cruelly stole from me,
Dying slowly, all alone.
Draw your razor blade across my cheek,
Watch the blood slide over my lips.
Remembered in these red, red tears
Are all the kisses you gently gave me
Though brutal was everything else.
Draw your razor blade across my throat,
Watch the blood fall on my shoulders.
Thriving on this red, red death
Is you, your lips pressing softly on my pulse.
Move away when it has stopped.
One of your Lies
When I was filled with dreams,
You, costumed all in grey and black,
Promised something wonderful.
So I followed,
And you taught me.
You were lonely, draped in sorrow,
Alluring in your strangeness.
I was trapped,
Fascinated by your darker side.
I was addicted to your enigmatical philosophies,
When I hungered,
You fed me more.
Would I have cared if I had known then
That they were all lies?
Now I'm looking into a mirror,
My reflection just a ghost of what I was,
I know that you watch me,
Trying to remember,
To figure out which of your beliefs
Distorted me so.
I drop the mirror,
Laugh as you recoil.
It's been so long
Since I've felt anything for you.
Before you and I know it,
Shards from the mirror
Are clenched in my hands.
We both cry as my blood falls to the floor.
You reach out to me,
Needing to hold me, control me.
I hesitate, then move away.
What if I'm just another one of your lies?
If you have any comments, you can e-mail me at hfoster@juno.com
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