Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Cleaners

I am stuck
Right next to
A hard place
And you left
My rock
And the keys
That use to open
The doors to
Your heart
Don't work anymore
Locked
And I'm left
Clueless
Silverstones don't glisten
Like your eyes
Use to
Both when
You smiled and cried
Lied in my arms
As I lost
Myself in your soul's windows
And the wind
Blows through
And caresses my curly tresses
That lie on
The tears in the fabric
Of your favorite dress
They curl more
From the wetness
I watch the MAC
Mascara race down
Your caramel face
Leaving footprints
In your cheek and neck
My lies follow
Trying to comfort
And sew together
The torn seam
Although it seems
This pattern
the intricate silhouette
And my actions
Alike
Are not as
Attractive as when you
First wore it



And I am no tailor