Your Pretty Face
I love you, I really do
Oh how it fills me with some speck of what you could call joy to see your once amazingly pretty face smashed against the bathroom floor.
My skin sings as mine eyes dazzle, watching your ruby red life spill down into this rat infested towns sewerage lines.
You stole from me what I left for you. You took until there wasn't a drop left to take and even then you tried to reach inside and grab some more.
I hated your selfish fist fucking fetish, only then to stomp on me with the morals you never held dear.
I think I'm falling apart as I stand her looking back into your glassy eyes. The prettiest shade of blue I ever did see.
It's what I said to you the day you paid for me, wasn't? You're eyes were the prettiest shade of blue and your lips the plumpest, fullest cherries I'd ever kissed.
It had been so simple and my mind tells me "Why? Why didn't you think of this before?" And I reply with a shrug, but never the less with a smile across my face as your bronzed skin turns blue before me.
Did I ever tell you, your skin is the prettiest shade of blue?
My fingers flinch, as if waiting for you to get back up, ready to crumble your bones to dust against the bathroom floor.
Though, and I think to myself though this isn't me thinking, would your skin taste as rounded and full as your lips did?
It's a question that I pondered to myself as I sat, letting my fingers dance in your blood and trace pretty patterns around the walls. You always loved anything filigree.
This my love, is for you.
This is your life trickling down the drain and I can tell you, I'm not afraid of you anymore. Not your glare. Not your hiss. Not your hands as they beat down hard upon me. And certainly not your laugh, that hysterical laugh that rang out through the night air. None of it matters now. Not when you're lying cold and blue over your bathroom floor.
Such a pretty little mess you've made for yourself.
I love you.
My skin sings as mine eyes dazzle, watching your ruby red life spill down into this rat infested towns sewerage lines.
You stole from me what I left for you. You took until there wasn't a drop left to take and even then you tried to reach inside and grab some more.
I hated your selfish fist fucking fetish, only then to stomp on me with the morals you never held dear.
I think I'm falling apart as I stand her looking back into your glassy eyes. The prettiest shade of blue I ever did see.
It's what I said to you the day you paid for me, wasn't? You're eyes were the prettiest shade of blue and your lips the plumpest, fullest cherries I'd ever kissed.
It had been so simple and my mind tells me "Why? Why didn't you think of this before?" And I reply with a shrug, but never the less with a smile across my face as your bronzed skin turns blue before me.
Did I ever tell you, your skin is the prettiest shade of blue?
My fingers flinch, as if waiting for you to get back up, ready to crumble your bones to dust against the bathroom floor.
Though, and I think to myself though this isn't me thinking, would your skin taste as rounded and full as your lips did?
It's a question that I pondered to myself as I sat, letting my fingers dance in your blood and trace pretty patterns around the walls. You always loved anything filigree.
This my love, is for you.
This is your life trickling down the drain and I can tell you, I'm not afraid of you anymore. Not your glare. Not your hiss. Not your hands as they beat down hard upon me. And certainly not your laugh, that hysterical laugh that rang out through the night air. None of it matters now. Not when you're lying cold and blue over your bathroom floor.
Such a pretty little mess you've made for yourself.
I love you.