Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Lifestyles Of The Loved And Blameless

I’m mad about your mania,

making plans that always revolve around your ruling passion,

your crazed addiction,

for the way I simply exist.

I am forever hanging out in your hang ups,

the prettiest of your preoccupations,

possessing your every thought,

your darling demon,

corrupting your conscious,

until it breathes,

lives,

pleads for me.

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I am the fight that leaves you faltering,

the spoiled spectre that will always haunt you.

I am your Kootie Pie Koopa,

and I want your whole heart for my birthday,

I spend my summers,

sitting on the tip of your tongue,

spoken into your serene dreamscape,

keeping your gaze as a gift for myself.

I am going to be the empress of everywhere,

knocking down the real world,

to build a dream for us to live in,

where I will rule supreme,

sometimes letting it seem like we could be close,

before I break old boundaries out of prison,

and let them terrorise our newfound happiness.

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These are the lifestyles of the loved and blameless.

I confess,

I cannot explain,

why you seem to look at me,

and see the answer to every prayer and birthday wish.

I think I play up,

being a spoiled bitch,

just to see how long it takes,

for you to decide that I’m just not pretty enough for that kind of behaviour,

I count down the days,

wondering how long it takes,

for the magic to wear off,

wondering when you will see what everyone before you saw,

even before I decided I deserved the world,

wondering when I will no longer be someone you love,

simply becoming someone you fuck and lie to.

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And maybe in the end,

I will regrettably remain a stuck up kitten,

who won’t sign autographs,

for the sake of my sanity,

and self preservation,

and you,

merely a meek mouse,

will always be my biggest fan.

Maybe,

in the end,

I’ll realise that you never say no,

because you know that nobody else said yes.


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