The Scarecrow & Turtle Doves

2014-07-11 22:44

In the ruins of my youth I linger,
hoping to wake up noticing
that the love I drank like
whiskey on the rocks,
is anything but forbidden.

To all of our turtle doves we shot down
from the shadows, hidden in the cracks
on New York City's sidewalks:
I will not beg forgiveness, though I'll say I'm sorry,
for I'm tired of hearing my own excuses;

When I entered her booth,
the fortune teller told me
that my happiness lies hidden
between the lines of subterfuge,
and the shame underneath my rainbow masks.

This July, I'm out of whiskey and out of love:
I'm rushing into the mirrors of my own decay;
making hatred out of caring, I carve
myself into a scarecrow, a single cut every day;
let my scarlet statue and shrine stay the same

This is the way it has to be.
I leave trails of tears and mourning behind me
wherever I go - I'm addicted to the grief itself -
I consume and destroy until there's nothing left:

This is the way it has to be -
carve into me the power needed
for me to become the nothingness
that everybody craves.

And then stay away.

----------------------------------------------------
Saffie's number game again, surprise surprise, prompts used this time, did I miss any? I don't think I did, anyway:

forbidden
between the lines
addiction and grief
July

tired excuses
love on the rocks
turtle doves
sidewalks of new York

death in the shadows
the fortune teller
everybody's nothing
the scarecrow