|Living Dead Girl submitted 2009.08.26 01:47 PM by slinkysmurfette viewed 875 times|
|4 whores and 7 beers ago I sat and watched the heroin come.|
It flowed through her veins with pleasure.
The reflection of her was fading in the mirror.
Thick blue lips shining, she was loving herself.
I anticipated her next move.
I was addicted to her. She excited me.
I didn't dare speak to her, she was forbidden.
Thoughts of us were satisfying enough.
Almost real, they were.
Beautiful, she was to me. Delicate body of a living dead girl. Long stringy brown hair fell over her small breasts.
Drug induced her eyes were dark and sad. She wore a thin white gown that had been torn in several places.
A dozen white roses lay upon her bed. Picking them up and hugging them tight, she cried.
Tears drenched the flowers. The thorns punctured her pale skin.
Petals were now stained with blood. They were as beautiful as she was.
She was now laughing at herself.
I couldn't stand to watch her any longer. I left.
The living dead girl had become an obsession. I had to go back.
When I returned to watch her, she was no longer loving herself. Infront of the morror she stood.
Bleeding she was, she had cut herself over and over.
I become furious at that moment. I closed my eyes with disappointment.
When I reopened my eyes, she had a gun to her head. She pulled the trigger,
and now I'm dead.
Stoned I awoke in your temple to darkness in shadows of dead venus blue.
I cut myself again and again to remind myself of you. I sink into you living dead girl. Those forbidden thoughts of us togther are now reality. We are one.
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