love bite // poetry

dry eyes

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dry eyes fall on a wet blade
which reflects the saline waterfalls of a great pretender;
false tears--a shameless thief of sympathy
is not something i ever denied myself of being.

i choke on fabricated agony
at a lost prize, which was rightfully mine
and implore them to cry for me:
pity--i gladly accept it.

they celebrate success,
while i plot to seize the prize
and blind them with their re-gifted gold
which i bequeath upon my own deceitful throat.

kindness is abstract,
so i fight for what i want
and seldom what any other needs;
gathering details to cut where it hurts the most when i need to. 

i fire the gun and shriek over bullet wounds; apologies spilling from my lips
like the froth of a wild animal,
so they think i care for their bleeding pride,
but i pull the plug when they drift to sleep.

judgmental as they are; they hold themselves with a righteous piety.
what tasteless hypocrisy i am forced to swallow;
i fecal dessert on my pristine platter
of selfish prosperity and brutish contentment. 

screeching wives lay curses on my name
as i rise to my greatness and walk out of their homes
a catastrophe of broken vows and emptied bank accounts
trailing my heels like a tasteful vanilla fragrance. 

my legacies are not many,
but those that exist, are cruel and intentional in nature.
a sympathy thief is not something
i have never claimed myself to be.

the plain truth, is that i do not care to sympathize.
i hide my eyes, boast a smile, and spill rose scented water from my eyes.
the only time one shall see me cry,
is when sit to nurture my aching, bruised knees.

~km

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