What the fuck did you expect?
You dressed me up, combed my hair,
Slotted those dull, black contacts into my eyes,
Even dressed me up in your favourite coat.
Whispered sweet nothings into my ears,
And I extracted the evidence from quick glances,
Feasted on the absence in those nothings, spun it till it was substance,
Stuffing that insulated the persona you're on trial for.
You dragged your body across mine,
Draped yourself on top of me,
With a delicacy born from fear.
YOU ARE READING
Confession|ACR 2
PoetryConfession is a poetry anthology that seeks to unnerve and evolve the contemporary style through its brutal analysis of the issues that plague the young, modern zeitgeist. Its judicial theme of confession creates an unforgiving and relentless pace t...
