Heart-Strings and Pretty Things
Lucy London
Copyright 2010 by Lucy London
Published at Smashwords
Gold Sequins/Red Wool
Did you see the way she looked at you?
All eyes.
Destroyed and empty
broken behind bent lashes.
Curled and coated in
fancy attempts to veil desperation.
And means to make you mean
the words you said.
A glittered endeavour to compel you to
TURN AROUND
and say all the things I’m sure you
meant to say 21 days ago.
But you are not
the star she’s shaped for a shaded
stage in the darkest corner
in the farthest reaches
of her ode-filled mind and
cob-webbed heart.
You are not the hero who will
be there
with an armful of harmony and purpose
to sweep her feet off
the dust of
the reality of
her self-inflicted situation.
You are not the manufactured dream
printed wildly on covers and sleeves
assuring sequined dreamers
there is something to hope for.
You are not anything.
You are a countless
Product planned and produced
to provide an escape
from an existence that
relies on disguising itself
as an indefinable term.
fine.
And she,
she is the name you won’t remember.
She is the frail frame
left to wander in silence
alone
for a closet
that deems her worthy to rest.
She is pouted lips and
candied nails that murmur
nothing but sex.
She is the haze of naivety.
Dancing like a poignant fog and
building piles and piles of self-loathing