UNDESERVING ENDS. LA-LA-LALA
“You are beautiful,” I told her and she laughed out in derision. Cruel mirror, she; terrible bitch.
And then there was sweet missing, beautiful in its absolute needlessness. Before you can sit and roll in there, comes in a darkness not of your own planning. And a very secret kiss that no one knows about is suddenly playing about. This time it doesn't cry fiction and you are scared. Bad, bad girl. The mirror laughs all over again and my vigorous attempts at audacity.
Repeat, repeat, roll. There it is, happiness sitting in a dim-lit room drinking something that smells of gasoline and tasting of sugared fruits. No cheap cigars this time. Just pathetic company whose trust in me begs me to wants to kiss it and slap it, again and again. Till his overgrown face perks up surprise like it should.
I haven’t laughed in a very long time, a hearty one drunken and teary; that sputters out of your system till you are hoarse for the night. A giggle, which became a snigger, which became a preposterous roar of laughter.
Thud.
It fell, breaking my mirth into undeserving pieces.
I hadn’t laughed since a year now. And I paid a price for it. I couldn’t love you anymore, not more than this, I cant.
And then there was sweet missing, beautiful in its absolute needlessness. Before you can sit and roll in there, comes in a darkness not of your own planning. And a very secret kiss that no one knows about is suddenly playing about. This time it doesn't cry fiction and you are scared. Bad, bad girl. The mirror laughs all over again and my vigorous attempts at audacity.
Repeat, repeat, roll. There it is, happiness sitting in a dim-lit room drinking something that smells of gasoline and tasting of sugared fruits. No cheap cigars this time. Just pathetic company whose trust in me begs me to wants to kiss it and slap it, again and again. Till his overgrown face perks up surprise like it should.
I haven’t laughed in a very long time, a hearty one drunken and teary; that sputters out of your system till you are hoarse for the night. A giggle, which became a snigger, which became a preposterous roar of laughter.
Thud.
It fell, breaking my mirth into undeserving pieces.
I hadn’t laughed since a year now. And I paid a price for it. I couldn’t love you anymore, not more than this, I cant.
Quisquilious Debalterations. Good night and good luck.
Labels: Dark Corners
posted by De.vile at 7:43 PM
12 Comments:
Can we have an easter truce De Vile?
,
HAPPY EASTER guys,
i love u guys
The ones with the fancy frames are the worst. Shaving mirrors are a close second.
Hopefully she wasn't looking within, that's what's most important anyway.
Cheers.
Mockery aimed at a compliment? Sort of adds up wrong, eh? But beauty was never a guarantee of grace.
Rock on!
Hmm...a laughing mirror..I like that.
sounds good !!!
very intriguing. hoping for that constructed part soon. :)
de.vile-- thats a lot of bull.you can't take potshopts at happiness.something so virgin shouldn't be degraded in such a way.if you have to,then do it will more venom,so that the paradox stands out.
It turns me on. Am I reading it "right"? Or is it just me?
I'd agree with Nocturnal...
Mirrors 'can' lie...
I have a hard time reading this stuff when Im drunk. But what I think you mean is the first meaning set to the other question allows for the disection of the over hyped hair cut. Am I close? Here, today, the sun shines and all on Gods green earth is...well its green, god damned green as far as I can tell.
Yip, the mirrors fancy, yes, she lies but yes, thats the only one I really talked to in a few days.
And the sounding good part, not really.
Thats only a word sometimes, zis happiness and I was overjoyed at the idea of a pampered prodigy being caught.
As to turn ons and turn offs and the cruel jabs at over exaggeration *shrugs* you like what you like, you dont what you dont.
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