By a. jewell   superedna@hotmail.com
Date: 28 January 2000

for abigail

how hard it is when pretense falls
but love it will beguile us all 
and drop us from the dizzy heights
fueled by damp and restless nights
take your kisses from my mouth
i lick my lips and tast the doubt
that carnal pleasures take the place
of honest arms and words of grace

hearless, empty, cold and shallow
small and angry, weak and callow
sick of living in your shadow
i remove myself from you
kicking, screaming, hoping, trying
to escape your looks and lying
while inside you're slowly dying
i will dance upon your grave

you swore you'd save me from myself
into my skin you slowly crept
murder was your curse`d goal
not of my body, but my soul
your eyes were pools in which i drowned
no solitude in there i found
just the lives that you devoured 
the torn, naive and lovesick cowards.