Ode to a Blunt Eraser

1
Immediately exposed from the pack
Impeccable and sound
None can forgo your purity
Nevertheless, with a solitary splotch
It is ended 
2
That lone blotch
Impairs it all
The precision vanished
Even so, you are decent
But eternally imperfect
Now and forever 
3
Now that you have been expended
Numerous and countless times before
Nothing can renounce
The flaws you now embrace
The only affair lingering to do,
Continue to be depleted
Until your existence is consumed. 
4
Gaze at yourself now
Nothing enduring but a barren silhouette
Being used to your fullest extent
You can do naught to halt this
You are practically washed out 
5
None remaining of you
You can no longer be run down
Inept and worthless
For most of you is wretched
But to someone,
You are still seamless.

Covetous

Beautiful, popular, exquisite. Captivating in every way. Her hair. Golden. Vortex curls. Impeccable. Green Eyes. Emerald. Incomparable. Her lips. Roseate. Delicate. Bronzed skin. Tanned to perfection. Out of grasp, light-years away. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but not in his case. Uncontrollable hair. Bulky glasses. Abnormally pallid skin.

A prodigy, but a nerd all the same. Calculating how long it would take for her to be his. Time. Galaxy. Two components. Keeping them separated. Not only. Popularity. Appearance. A time once desecrated. 

Wasting an  existence trying to impress the girl who ruled his biosphere. Fantasizing a life of bliss with his queen. Tormented for his yearning for her. Compressed for his determination. Abused for his thoughts. Laughed at for his actions.

A request with one reply. All the same. Soon after would be laughter. A simple amusement of a fantasy. Dreams shattered. Future destroyed.

Insanity boiling beneath skin. If he couldn’t have her, no one could. Lust escalating into madness. Madness flourishing into abduction. What once was a queen, now a prisoner. All he wanted was a chance. But not even that was granted. Begging and pleading. Screaming and crying. A perfect face now flawed with fear. Incisions. Lacerations. Perforations. All upon the precision that once was. Petrified for what is to come. Not knowing is worse than the torture.

A venom used to silence the painful screams of anguish. A body of so much movement, now lay tranquil. Scarred, battered, mutilated. A heap of a queen. Sealed within her eternal dungeon. A wish granted. No one could take her now. 

Hilarity echoes. A prodigy turned executioner. One question remained.

Who’s laughing now?