Spirit Girl.

[LiteraryAntiquity]

Part One (Ghosts)

I was barricaded by your silver dagger,
The one that tore my lung and liver.
I'm just a shadow, a silhouette,
Nothing left for your regret.

He stares down at his rusting buckle, or his school bag.
Tapping pen to paper, finger to knuckle.
I watch, from the store cupboard,
Hoping one day he'll see he's adored.

She's Spanish, a real gem,
I hide in her locker when she cops a feel.
She pulls him into the computer room
and my stomach, my chest fills up with gloom.

I close my eyes and picture me there
holding his hand, a permanent fixture.
She leaves the room, pulls down that skirt
and he comes out rebuttoning that shirt.

Part Two (A Little Obsessed)

One buttons wrong and it irritates me.
I suppose after sex he just can't see.
It makes the hole in my stomach tingle like mad
when he gets to class he obliviously mingles.

How could he be oblivious to my touch?
Why is he doing this, is it comedy and such?
I guess that I'm a little out of the loop,
I wish he'd tell me what this was all about.

He turns on the laptop when he gets home
and I sit on his bed, watching him alone.
He's robotic on these nights, it's sweet,
and I laugh as he jumps when I turn out the lights.

When he sleeps I put submarines in his dreams,
It's not as sick as it seems.
He used to dream of knives and crime
but I put in happiness, everything survives.

Part Three (Come To Death With Me)

He's going out with the Spanish blue eyes now.
How time flies,
I've been spooking her by moving her keys,
Hoping that at some point she flees.

It's a competition, between living and dead.
It's a fight that I am giving.
I'm not asking, I am telling.
In the pit of my hollow stomach jealousy is swelling.

I'll do anything I want to do,
I even changed her italic font.
I'll pretend there's nothing there,
it's just simple cold, cold air.

She's freaking him out with her scary tales.
He thinks she's being a silly fairy
and I am laughing from the place on his bed.
I'm slowly impacting on the thoughts in his head.

It's like I can hear him going insane.
It's love for him I cannot restrain
and the kiss of death is all he needs
To join me with razors, I hate seeing him bleed.

[billy]

lots to like in this LF
some great lines and good images.

i love this verse which could be a short poem all of it's own'

When he sleeps I put submarines in his dreams,
It's not as sick as it seems.
He used to dream of knives and crime
but I put in happiness, everything survives.

and this one's the same:

I'll do anything I want to do,
I even changed her italic font.
I'll pretend there's nothing there,
it's just simple cold, cold air.

thanks for th eread

[addy]

Really liked this. I especially like how I didn't get it immediately, but instead the story slowly unfolded. Very engrossing.

[LiteraryAntiquity]

Really liked this. I especially like how I didn't get it immediately, but instead the story slowly unfolded. Very engrossing.

I'm glad you liked it Addy I thought it worked well with the photograph, I hope that was apparent. Thank you for your comment, I will be sure to read more of yours when I am fully awake as currently I am half asleep. Thanks again. LF.

---

lots to like in this LF
some great lines and good images.

i love this verse which could be a short poem all of it's own'

When he sleeps I put submarines in his dreams,
It's not as sick as it seems.
He used to dream of knives and crime
but I put in happiness, everything survives.

and this one's the same:

I'll do anything I want to do,
I even changed her italic font.
I'll pretend there's nothing there,
it's just simple cold, cold air.

thanks for th eread

Thank you very much Billy, as always I adore your comments as they aid no end. I especially feel more accomplished knowing that there was no real critique with this one. Thanks again, respectfully, LF.