your plastic smile gives off
a bitter odour in the untimely summer
rain. i
shrug; not for me
things of stolen beauty.

i dip my fingers in a bowlful of words—they
keep me sane. you
bite the notes of rapture that rise in my head.
(and, suddenly, every
place inside me
is anti-utopia.)
splinters of my dappled heart are strewn all over
our little confetti-laden
coffee table.

your terriblebrown voice cuts
through the trace of a twirl.
(it was lingering over
my fretful toes, and now it’s gone.)

i slip into another world, away
from this tirelonesome
reality, and i
start worrying about my
chipped nails.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...