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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1568290-Tattered-Angel
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by Akira Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Other · #1568290
Please note that the following piece does not relate to me, nor to anyone I know
She was the angel, fallen from grace
And as she sat, leaving blood-stains on the sofa,
She screamed desperately at her conscience,
"Give me some fucking space".
She laughed bitterly,
as she raised the bottle to her lips,
Flirted shamelessly with the shattered mirror,
as she provocatively swayed her hips.
He stood behind her, un-noticed,
Til she whimpered;
"Get your hands off me".
Stepped back, seemingly burned,
But then his eyes flashed,
His grip left rivers of scarlet,
Strangled cries escaped her lips,
"You bitch", he spat, "You whore,
you harlot".
Finished, he threw her carelessly,
her wings naught but tatters.
Eyes downcast, he lifted her chin,
"I'm sorry".
"It's okay", she sobbed,
"It doesn't matter".
© Copyright 2009 Akira (kat_132 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1568290-Tattered-Angel