There comes a point in time, when you realize you don’t deserve what you had. A time, when you see yourself for the bitch you truly are. You stand in the light and the blemishes paint themselves on your skin, little lightposts marking the path on your road to sin. There comes a time, when…
marriage crumbled, affair smoldered, while an eating disorder quietly consumed her from the inside out. ain’t it amazing what a smile can hide? ____________________________________________ Thank you for reading, ~ Victoria Elizabeth
the words come easy, hard candies rolled on the tongue. it should be hard to go, to stay, to want both and none of it at all.
feet strike pavement, echoes of a path I used to take. running from you, or toward? both are the same mistake. why do the cracks in the concrete make me crave the scratching tickle of your kiss? escape I’m free of this illusion but you’re the lie I hate to miss. Thanks for reading, Victoria…
and when the mask fades away stripped of the layers of false hope joy pride faith love all that’s left is a sad, sad girl ————————————- Thanks for reading, Victoria Elizabeth
You were a tailor, wearing suits of crafted tales, woven lies, snug and warm, of the finest filigree, no less. You were a magician, pulling stories from your breast, blooming blossoms of perfumed petals, to hide the rabbit in your hat. You were a performer, contorting and reshaping before my eyes, a languid, flexible figure,…
The Turtle and the Dove. A turtle looked to Heaven, for the sky that bore his love. Many found it awful silly, for a reptile to love a dove. “She makes my heart a’flutter,” said the hard-shell to his friend, “There’s no distance I wouldn’t travel, I’d pursue her to the end.” His darling bird…
A fantasy cloaked in non-fiction, you were the story I couldn’t put down. Words branded on my eyelids, pressed deep in the pages of my soul. Sex. Magic. Love. Lies. Nonsense. Truth. Now I know why the world burns books. ———————————– – Victoria Elizabeth
I want to be me. Not what anyone assumes of me. I’m a sexual person. I won’t be ashamed of it. I want to have sex. Lots of it. I want to read my books without being called a nerd. I want to write my fucking poetry without someone cranking up some shitty movie to…
It would be simpler, a sharpened blade trailed down slender wrist. Easier than this treacherous game called life. There would be no desire, hope, pain, want, failure. Only absolution, quiet. It would be simpler a handful of pills, some pink, some blue, maybe yellow, just for fun. Eyelids heavy, promised rest, a final resolution that…
Victoria Elizabeth Ann 