Sunday 3 April 2011

P.S...liar.

"Smile, honey. Smile!"
I smile, and it's fake.
You don't notice my,
Fingers start to shake.


You take more photos,
To capture my life;
The last one catches
The glint of a knife.


SNAPSHOTS


"That last one was bad,
Lift your head to the light."
I hold back my rage
With all my might.


Naked, under the lamps,
My sweat begins to run.
With just one erroneous move,
My life could be done.


SURVIVE.


"Baby," I say, "It's time,
Just hold me tight."
You come closer;
You enter the light.


Your hands grab me,
But mine are quicker.
I stare with glee,
As your eyes flicker.


KILLERS.


You're still now and
I caress your face.
My cold heart beats,
At a thrilling new pace.


I gently pull your face to mine,
The crimson pools like a sea,
For one final photo of
Dead you, and me.


THRIVE.

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