Gourmandised Beat Beat

Every tender step is met with shards of glass

I watch the beaten path

With eyes that dart at single flicker

Still my tentative figure is charred

In the harsh blast of your scarred

And eager charge, when you march

Through the hard tenement of my past

I sit hands under chin and laugh

Hoping you reroute and surprise me

With a soft helping of mars and stars

But you are typical, and play the same cards

Tearing buildings down

And squashing cars

Smashing windows and stomping fast

Through those beaten paths

That connect my feet to my arse

And my arse to my brain

I’m proxy to your pain

I’m the blonde in the hotel room

Staring through the windowpane

Out at the concrete, splashed with rain

As I run a bath and glass of champagne

Knowing it’s the last day

I will feel the earth between my toes

Or the soft blow of your kiss again

I’ll be your punching bag forever

The shock of twist would only strain

The thick, metal capillaries I’ve trained

My heart to chain thump to

But I always forget the excruciating rush

When it floods blood through

The nervous twitch, the silent itch

The stitch that picks its spiral

The heavy blush when promises crush

Showing the world my ache

As I turn that break viral

My ballerina toes pose above the water

The tub that fills translucent

Then I watch that liquid drain

The red, the brown, the beige, the nuisance

I want newspapers to cover the windows

And double locks for all the doors

I want a helmet for the hair pull

And knee pads when I’m pushed to all fours

I need bubble wrap to trap me

So the break is but a graze

I need love and understanding

And a waver that goes right

Then stays

As when I’m laid in your bed of forget-me-nots

I forget about the days

You forced my fragile body

Into spikes that were arranged

To condemn my free thinking

My blaze that left the others amazed

That flash was too bright though

You swayed it shut, licked index and thumb

Spat disgust upon my flame

I’m merely mouse to capture

To roll around in net

They say when you meet your maker

You learn your fate

But I haven’t met him yet

So I follow all your orders

All the trends that you have set

Soaking broken skin in boiling depths

Waiting for this love to let.

By Lyric Deep.

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