THE CRYING MARIONETTE

Crying Marionette

written by Alberto a.k.a. "THE BAORNESS" Kennedy

On March 29, 2009


It’s hard. To be the discards of a shattered heart that loves you. So use, to being used and it somehow felt so good to be abused by her beautiful evil. Her tears of poison I kissed away, I couldn’t stay away though I’ve always known, I have to stay the hell away.

Her voice, honey laced cyanide, I’ve tried and tried, existed and survived, without her toxic affection that left me addicted. My veins are the strings she pulls and yanks, she sank her hypodermic fangs into my arms and now my soul sings of hell and fire. Such masochistic desire. She tells me that she loves me but she’s such a fucking liar. But I can’t help to believe her. My beautiful deceiver.

It rips my skin off that I smell men on her. That she thinks I don’t smell their stink on her. But her tears I just can’t help but to drink from her.

It’s hard. To be the discards of a shattered heart that loves you. So use, to being used and it somehow felt so good to be abused by her beautiful evil. Her tears of poison I kissed away, I couldn’t stay away though I’ve always known, I have to stay the hell away.

But by her side I stay, enraptured by blissful ache, no mistake she makes could be so great, that my love would break. Together we stand, hand in hand, until this world is reduced to air and sand. Oblivion being our inevitable fate.

She holds the reigns to my soul, my very veins she controls and I twist for her, dance for her, making love to her while drowning in this dark romance for her. Does she love me or the bane in her arms as she moans my name? Either way I’m the one that answers her.

Now, I’m but a hollow husk of my former glory, no one left to cry for me just as no one can be moved from an untold story, Just me in a dark corner of an alley, with her in my arms nearing our finale.

My veins dry and bleeding for their feeding, both of us sweating and soiled, in the shadows of today crying for yesterday and knowing we won’t see tomorrow. She won’t see tomorrow. Just excruciating pain overpowering sorrow.

No one pulling my strings anymore, no one to score for me or to score for, no one to be the pimp or the whore for, no one. Hell is having no one to be there for you or to be therefore. No one.

I couldn’t stay away from the sweet death she brought. The sweet death she bought. I still love her with everything I’ve got no matter the hell she wrought in my life. She’s my lover, my friend, my enemy, my teacher, my student, my wife. My life. Now she’s gone. My life is done.

It’s hard. To be the discards of a shattered heart that loves you. So use, to being used and it somehow felt so good to be abused by her beautiful evil. Her tears of poison I kissed away, I couldn’t stay away though I’ve always known, I should’ve stayed the hell away. Hell here I come.