136. Find me beneath these pretty vines, where hearts and wine lay intertwined.

I taste these ghouls on your sore lips,
lingering with crimson and red lipsticks.
You'll find me beneath these pretty vines,
where hearts and wine lay intertwined.
The wind blows ashes, dirt and waves,
but never ever will your pretty eyes taste.
The black aching darkness or my ghostly lace,
from your leading lady and her lovely grace.

Bloodshot and tired, your downcasted mind.
Torn between two beauties and one ugly little lie.
So tell me, poor dear, why do you have tears?
Lips shut and frowning, tilt back and chug your beer.
Absurdly numb with the fear and cold.
In the midst of summer, and another year old.
The dark wears on late in the sun,
A day too old, a night way too young.

Anesthesia replacing my blood,
shivering through knees, is it not enough?
Your voice so creepy, eerie and broken.
Running through my veins, cutting me wide open.
Yes the truth hurts, but a lie is worse.
Still who in your mind comes to you first?
Yet everytime you love me it tingles.
So we're back again, you in two, I a single.

Nicole.