Cycle of seven sinsI wanted to go to bed but the spritz of envy filled up my cavern of ribs making
it harder to go to bed.
It ate away my hostility and gave me jealousy in return.
Oh damn envy and it's ugly face gaining more while my exposed self can't help but fall back on it.
I tossed and turned trying so hard to change envy into vanity so the sun could appear and leave behind this ugly human habit in my mind.
I couldn't stop thinking of how gluttonous I was when I had him right on my fingers never taking full advantage of the lust he had deep in his blue eyes.
I grew to be idle near him almost like a sloth, always looking at someone else other then him.
His envy to be like other men grew like mine has now but he let his out long before I did.
Angry was how it came out like the god of wrath he let out a war of words on me that I though could ever fall on his teeth and tongue.
Pride got me in it's clutches as he spoke, not minding that I'd never see his face or body again.
A smile crept up on me as I th
Pulling awayA word unravels the spits of lies
that shot out their tongue.
Beauty was destroyed and turned ugly
with a twist, it was unreal.
The butterflies of their stomach flew out,
and became angry monsters beating up their
hearts. Shrouds of the engulfed past
erupted like tsunamis. Building up
to be the greatest suprise of them all.
Electric glides against their faces
but the tsunami of words hits
and the Electric shocks them both.
Seemingly harmless shocks but surged through them
sunk deep within them.
Regret and Pain was shared.
Like the end a storm a soft atmosphere
Leaving the pull toward each other behind.
A tear can't out this flame"Guess you don't have to be the oldest to die first." Said the old woman snuffing out, out the candle. Lingering in the darkness clinging to a clothe that held memories of old friends and family. Long since pasted away, all she had was herself. A rose lay upon the small table one that was given to her yesterday at the funeral. It whittles away when the petals fall softly against the glass like wooden floor. A tear fills in her wrinkles making her look young for just a second but her age shows once it's gone. Time has made her like this she once was a woman jolly and bubbly. Now just an old woman without a friend or foe to care about her. Wearily she still lingers hoping that some way a ghost of her sister would appear like it had yesterday. Just a strand of hope that she questions cautiously so as not to discourage her sister. Without an ounce life or hope left in the old woman she walks away feeling depressed and cold. If only her sister could grace her with one last kiss or word then
I'm lost...I dab my fingers into their cold and warm feelings that play tricks on me as they roll onto their faces.
If my heart wasn't so frozen I'd lavish my fingers a bit more but moments are quick and fast.
A prick of the finger will do. For I have now realized that pain is among some peoples faces hidden in there teeth and eyes.