Tuesday, June 05, 2012

HAIR


Twirling, black, wet
Decapitated vanity
Scattered on the floor

Did you look away, as we made love that night?
Did we make love that night?
Did we ever make love?

Because I hungered for that
Which I never deserved,
Because I hunger for that
Which I cannot have,
Each night, a zombie with haunted hair
Traverses a mobius strip of nostalgia

Someday I’ll kill the beast
And bathe these tresses in its blood
Twirling, red, wet

2 comments:

Rishabh Poddar said...

P.S: Forgive me for prying :)

SILVER said...

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...

Okay! You're forgiven, but not forgotten :D