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Stings like hot grease

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The tirade of empty words

from an unfeeling heart

falling down to the molten pit

as he regurgitates into my lap

the words that sting like hot grease


I lay-stand fuzzy falling straight still-

As he takes his bowie knife and guts me

de-pelts me and flings my carcass over into

the pool of soured regrets he left boiling,

Shouldnt I have felt that?


Now I long to be numb again,

I lay awake most nights remembering,

As he is most surely forgetting by now-

His tender kiss, my first endeavor, forevermore vacant,

As I careen this empty sea; with out him.

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

The first line of the second stanza has a dreamy feeling and sets up the rest of the poem very well. Well done, Leslie.

Joshua Hennen
This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Very raw... well done

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