Repeat like a broken tabletop, scratching the same thread of noise.
Rewind to the moment ribbons twisted and tangled before they were swallowed up by golden flames.
I never saw your eyes.
You wear a blindfold that helps you perceive through feeling, but that same needle weaves a curse you're too blind to understand.
You know the warmth of the stars and the sound of cooling embers, you can translate sound into ink as you let smoke seethe between your perfect, bright smile.
But all you blow are ashes of burned attempts. You slave your lust to supply your jars of careless promises and powder the sand spread before you.
You crave little but demand much, a glutinous vanity that serves you hearts on a bronze platter.
You wear a blindfold that extends your charm past your cheek.
Given who you are, potential exists as God does, you have yet to prove your glow.
You call love precious, you claim loyalty as the mother in King Solomon's court.
You wear a blindfold, one that masks your fears. Yet you forget you wear a blindfold.
Your eyes are glass; mirroring desire and transparent to the destruction you approach, warnings deemed conversation.
They sing siren songs subtly as you prance. Your ears, though perfect, amount little translation for your mind.
Hang me up like all your other trophies. You won't know I'm here.
Afterall, you wear a blindfold.
--
Noise
YOU ARE READING
Bleak and Vibrance
PoetryWe learned how to speak as children, so why are we learning to speak all over again.
