Third Person

Strike a match and set fire to the feathers
you stripped off the angels' wings.
Scribble notes in half-fogged mirrors and unseeing eyes
with traces of acetone left behind by your trailing fingertips.
Jump in puddles and wallow with rain-drops streaming
through your eyelashes and washing away the clean parts of your thoughts.
Paint faded giggles across stranger's foreheads and leave
them with memories they wish they could forget.
Strip away the smoke machines and barely beating hearts
to reveal ghosts better left unsaid.
Sharpie hardened scars over ones that are real to hide
from prying eyes that would make fresh marks.
Write over the entire world with words that make Mother blush,
and break from silicone molds of angels.

Speak in third person and forget that you're me.

...I love this. It's so deep and beautiful. Well done!

Why, thank you. (:

*gasp* Yay it's wings! :3 The wings line and the gigles one are so so amazing, but the whole poem is too! ^^

Whoa... That's amazing. Poor MC, though.

Yup, wings again. I'm glad you don't get sick of them, cause I write them quite often, lol.
Thankies!

Wow, I love this one. <3