Thursday, December 29, 2011


I stick my finger down my heart,
To purge any thoughts left of you,
I’m left gagging on the curds of our love,
Rolling the acidic taste of your bile on my tongue,
When all that’s left is emptiness,
Your memory still claws at me from within.

I choke on the words you feed me,
I gag on the lies you spread,
I taste the deceit as it kills me,
But I still call you my friend.

The salt of your skin is a memory,
Your kisses bring me life,
The air influxes like a memory,
A haunting thought of being your wife…
I feel it taking over, but I’m not ready again,
Why must you still scratch your name in my skin?

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