Oh, What Tangled Webs We Weave
By Miztaken4beauty
The curse of cuves,
and bad taste in men.
A taste for the wicked.
A penchant for sin.
She's alarming,
disarming,
[and oh
so]
very charming.
Crazy and unforgiving,
Forever reliving
the past.
[Miztakes]
But she's growing older.
Perfected
the cold shoulder.
[With every notch in the bed post.]
From every
memory's fading ghost.
At least they're honest.
They take
and leave.
Not showing her exactly
What she wants to believe.
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Copyright 2010 Miztaken4beauty
Published on Tuesday, September 7, 2010.
Filed under:
"Poetry"