Club Sheen


‘Club Sheen’
By mstmha

Ghost lights dimmed
To mesmerizing.
Your stage,
A fire lit,
Cello reprieve.

You taste me
In your casting role
That I can never leave.

I absorb
Your foolish bask
On my
Lacey-bodied scene.

Staging my silken skin
With a wetful tongue
I applauded with a snap, snap
To your poetic

My moan jazzing
To a less volumous sound
As my emotions implode,
Barely conscious,
Gliding my body to breathe.

By your urgency.
By your sax
Seducing to scene.

No curtain fall
To end the skill in task.
As your hands
My arching grief.

You do not deserve
That standing ovation
From the audience
Who aphro-di-si-acted
Our instrumentality.

Snap, snap, Snap, snap
Your rhythm un-soothing,
As I fret
To my own defeat.

I cringe to your words.
Your unfulfilled adj’s
When you sing
That I am all
You’ll ever need.

I do not want
To fear the pain
After curtain falls
And you must
Then take leave.

The coldness
After your
Fevered heat.
The emptiness
Within your smoke scheme.

Your act is shared
With only those
That care
About appearances
In our house-club called ‘Sheen’.

Our harmonious hands
Our strumming to pace
Is our Emmy
Amongst the steam.

Soon our stage
Will darken.
Our curtains
Soon will crash.
A facade
Is our reality

No Club Sheen to salve.


About mstmha

Another Victim Of Gang Stalking...Digging In The Dark View all posts by mstmha

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