Desdemona

Pierre Roustan
Feb 9 · 1 min read
Courtesy: Flickr

You’ll never know true loss.
Because you won’t allow yourself to lose.
Winning is(n’t) everything.
You can come here to pay respects
With no real respect except a train wreck
Painted with soft blue colors and brand names.
Superficial and stupid superwoman.

See my tears?
They wash away any of my colors.
Nothing but a mess,
But at least I know it’s a mess I can clean up.
Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.

And you thought I wouldn’t amount to anything,
Pretty songs I sing
With flights of fancy and ideals
You hated, loathed, and clothed in your security.
Lock the door, hide the keys and punch out every day.

24 hours I stay and play this game of life.
There’s no punching out. Not even punching in. I punch through.
Look at me now with all the love I have
In my tears, my joys, my sorrows, my hate, my love, my fear, my pain, my life.

You’re nothing. Fly away. We don’t need you.


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Pierre Roustan

Written by

Prolific writer, published author, editor, experienced copywriter, and avid reader http://medium.com/pierre-roustan http://scaryhorrorstuff.com

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