[Hex]

This is an old poem I wrote when I was 16ish...it is pretty messed considering my age when I wrote it so don't mind the insanity...very free verse. Enjoy! (again I was 16...shudders)

yet it goes out to
the girls playing lingerie tag
yes, the ones with their hearts tattooed to their hip
to prevent it's loss in the flurry of
dressing and undressing
of wine stained carpets and
blood stained sheets.
The silhouettes of women
bouncing up and down in rhythm with
the silhouette in the room next door
a carousel of perverse pleasure
teasing the paper dolls they cant let go of
the undeniable copies word for word
promise for promise
broken heart for broken bone.
still.
is it the heat that starts the game?
or the childish desire to drive each other mad.
the desire to see tears,
to cause pain.
perhaps just a love of the game?
no, love does not exist in this
morale hell
this inventive mad house.