You spill
your words.
A sizzle of venom
to corrode my esteem,
stale.
An acrid tang
lingers.
We used
to talk,
way after the sun.
Now we shower each other
in shame.
I have always loved
the taste of Vinegar
on my tongue,
Lemon even...
Now I
cannot
abide..
Comments
Parson Thru | May 11, 2012 - 18:49
I love reading poems that get to the point like this does. No room for fluff on this topic and you have pulled it off really well. Transmitted the rawness. Great.
ScoZen | August 23, 2012 - 19:20
With Parson Thru on this one.
ps About to catch up with the rest of your tales.
Regards.