by Rachel Nimeth
I'm bound by this obsession.
Your sticky lips, pale eyes.
Inspired by a lunacy,
Morbid and uncontrollable.
Shrieks in a dream that never ends.
Pictures of you that will not burn.
Someday soon I've got to learn.
A pretty little package, my pale obsession,
A haunted ghost in faded jeans.
You'd turn in your grave if you ever knew
The whom and what that I've become.
My darling, my darling; you're gone and here I sit,
Controled by a lunacy, a morbid desire,
To set this whole damn place on fire.
You're gone, you're gone; but still I sit,
Galled to the memory of shadow.
I'd lie on your grave - scream your name
Making sure this world never forgets you.
But they'd lock me up, pad the walls,
Dumb down the obsession with pictures of flowers..
.
Kittens...ink blots...clowns
So I scream in silence for you, Jane,
Death is often beautiful,
But living death is never pretty.