The Scarlett Locket

There was a high 

to the stupidity of hope

and my body happened to house a heart 

with an addiction to unrequited affection.

To blame 

was the Lust that lived

for the blood of betrayal-

The tease of a wine-colored drip 

seconds away from staining 

my favorite white dress.

It was as if we kissed-

and 

if we did then 

I would let you do it again.

But the bitter to the sweetness was the 

realization of it’s make believe magic-

I solely desired to dream. 

It was never a secret that I 

longed to paint my life into art 

and that 

I liked the pressure of a piercing-

Right through the heart.