1.25.2009 @ 4:12:00 PM
SINUNGALING.
I lied.
Stitched my back against a wall.
As I fend for a twisted act,
Your
phantom scorching my skin.
To my tortured veins;
To my drastic fall.
Pretensions stay bottled in a syringe.
A
venom that blunts...
Every attempt to surface.
A
chamber that smolders...
Every last breath.
Still indifferent.
Still lying.
Still cold.
You lied.
Upon the shift of your sail,
You wave me to fret.
An
island you promised,
But in a metaphorical snap,
You never wept.
With such credibility do I admire you
A
fiction that precipitates...
The stream over my eyes.
A
gun that blazes...
The sick joke inside.
Still indifferent.
Still lying.
Still cold.
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