if these bones could talk. pt1

we live day by day winking at the future. whispering sweat nothings to our bones of wealth, health, and happiness but these bones know better. my bones bring reality to my mouth. she says she’s fine. she plays dress up with her heart. a little more eye liner, bright red lipstick, how’s about that cleavage, baby. think he’ll love you now? no, but your bones crave that touch no matter how covered in blood it is. well darling, that touch will be mocking you tomorrow and your eyeliner will be running but your bones with grow thicker. no amount of sex cocaine or alcohol will deteriorate your bones. no matter how hard you try. i wish your words could penetrate your bones the way they do ours. they tie strings of truth to our guts that are connected to the doors of opportunity we’ve been confronted with, and as they elegantly glide of your tongue they slam those doors shut ripping our bodies apart, leaving only our bones to remain. our bones are hollow. yours are over flowing with talent. if you could spare one baby i think i need a transplant. you’re more than talent to me. i see your soul honey i don’t care how pretty your voice is or how original your new time signature may be. your talent means nothing to me. your flesh means nothing to me. so believe me when i say this, baby, your bones will never break the way your heart has.

~ by everyonesfavoritemidget on July 26, 2008.