Almost Porcelain Poem by Miss Fairytale

Smoking her cigarette
listening;
She's never been on my side.
My blood
crimson velvet
A porcelain life
A lifeless photograph.

She looked in my direction
The fierce expression in her eyes
rose and fell
softly
almost dreaming
Her lips were parted
Her pale skin without a blemish
I didn't think those eyes could be so intense.

My hand reached out to touch a red drop
of blood, so dark it was almost black.
I stared at the glass-topped table,
the blood
played with her illusions,
She whispered in my ear
images
time slips.
We held an old black and white photograph
creased, corner torn off.

I tried to wipe the blood off the glass
I could feel the thick clots in the back of my throat,
'Good luck', she said.
I'm still shaking.