She isn't one
she's more than half a dozen
almost an archetype
a repeating historical theme
Something for you !
Ass in my face
a very pretty ass
But a rat in the gutter
even a clean rat
is just a rat
Regardless of who I will be known as
of who I really am
inside
in this time
here
I am a rat
the cool duuuuuuuuuuuuude
with the tats
and his ears stretched wide
Mr. Slick
slides in
Swine snuffling for pearls
and oyster
A serpent tongue
of smooooooth talking
a "playa"
so much better
than a rambling geek boy
gazing at visions
creating worthless things
of beauty...
Slick's got a good slave's job
a proper meat robot he is
aesthetically pleasing to the eyes
he says all the right things
plays the Game well
as playas do
The Game I have no time or energy for
She follows the signals
automatically
she's been trained this way
in the Game
where everything is a lie
with a purpose
I have no time
or soul energy
for Lies
or Games
I avoid them
like plague dogs on the road
a sign of decay
approaching
so I step back to watch
the Play repeated
again
again
watching
how lies
are always better than truth to her
the shallow surface
pretty sheen
pretty things
always dazzle her
like dangling string
I gave her warning
being observant
but when has advice like that
ever been heard by beauty?
It's only ever seen
as jealousy
Now she looks at me with red eyes choking tears
but I have no warmth in my heart anymore
almost none
a small amount of pity
behind a mask of indifference
no point
to show
that I once cared
because I can't
be bothered
with such a simple fool
she's diseased now
mind and body
scarred, scabbed, contagious
wishing she'd chose differently
I wish she had chose differently
I see
that we both wish...
Her face and heart still beautiful
her blood and pinkness
full of parasites
I might
if I was wrapped in plastic
no kisses on the mouth
but trust is at the core of what we seek
and my heart-on my sleeve
is sealed in plastic
empty of trust and playfulness
and bitter
