MORE WRITING
scattered across the faux finish
the battered surface
scraped and ridged
what is left of my innocence
beaded on top of that table
each scratch left, taken from my own flesh
gouged and strained, glossy along the edge
i lost my coherence in the midst of the passion
the passion that resulted in the demolition of that table top.
run my finger along that one crack
that crack
that final crack you left
leaving me to varnish over the bruises.
there were no intentions
but does it matter
now all thats left are the black and blues
not just on my arms.
on the fucking purity.
the little you left me.
the battered surface
scraped and ridged
what is left of my innocence
beaded on top of that table
each scratch left, taken from my own flesh
gouged and strained, glossy along the edge
i lost my coherence in the midst of the passion
the passion that resulted in the demolition of that table top.
run my finger along that one crack
that crack
that final crack you left
leaving me to varnish over the bruises.
there were no intentions
but does it matter
now all thats left are the black and blues
not just on my arms.
on the fucking purity.
the little you left me.