I’m Mr. Receeding hairline
carrying his glass of wine.
Walking towards the balcony
to take a piss for all to see.
She lays awake like still born shock,
her pasty hands stained from cock.
I keep her locked up in the room in my head.
I’ll keep her around long after she’s dead.
No morbid pastors preaching to men.
She wipes her face with a cum rag of sin.
There’s lavender planted in the kitchen,
she loves purple flowers, she thinks they listen.
When I catch her crying in the dark,
she slithers away like a burnt out spark.
Speaking of this sexy walk in the park,
the bathroom mirror, she left fingermarks.
Princess just dyed her hair black,
Full scale like a bushy fox tail.
She broke down in the living room painting boats that sail.
All of this exists in a place in my mind,
All of this is the only bit of what she left
behind.
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