The Perfect Whore

pepper

Drifting
She’s passing the time
Existing is easier than being alive, isn’t it?
Forgotten in the cloud of smoke she drew breath from
Her sunken face held blinking wells of despair
Scars lay scattered where a smile should have been
And her heart...
Leaked enough small talk to poison her slowly
Bonding the free
She...
Left mouths like the word
And entered ears as an echo
Over and over and over
Breaking chains with her knees, so her pleas to taste something real
Would sound prettier than this
This…
This is the sound of something breaking.
And it’s taking more
Than the aching between her thighs
For her to recognise
The perfect whore.

AmbientDiversion

I really like this.
This piece traces a stark line that is personal and universal.
I prefer free verse like this (though, I hope to discover the intended rhythm of this poem sometime)
Very cool
Thanks for a good effort!

AmbientDiversion

zarocat

AmbientDiversion wrote:

This piece traces a stark line that is personal and universal.

+1

PilateOfTheStorm

zarocat wrote:

AmbientDiversion wrote:

This piece traces a stark line that is personal and universal.

+1

+2

this is great


Drifting
She’s passing the time
Existing is easier than being alive, isn’t it?

i really like those lines too

pepper

Thanks for the feedback..... hugely appreciated. Especially with it being such a personal piece!