Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Spiteful Siren

Spiteful siren,
jealous of the waves that wash over you,
my sweet, out of reach love,
there’s nothing else to do,
but to retire to my rock,
sing sad things about my broken heart and hope you’ll notice,
so that I don’t have to be brutally honest.

My eyes are brown,
my tail is blue, but my soul is green,
and I see you through a fever dream,
where everyone is out to get you.
I’ve always wanted you,
admiring you,
as the sun rises and falls,
and I fall like a lovesick lady of the land,
but you never understand,
my sweet, out of reach love,
you’re never under my command,
never moved by my melancholy melodies,
never wooed by the promise of every sailor’s fantasy.

Spiteful siren,
throwing pebbles at the pretty girls that crowd around you,
staring at you,
shirtless, famous,
thoughtless.
Of course,
I bring the tide in with my tears,
every time you pass me by, without a glance, without a gaze,
and my days
are
so
disjointed,
without you to tie them together.

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