NN Header

Thursday, 2 February 2017

[Poem] Blunt Sword




When his kiss melted into 
A pool of bitterness, 
And his touch began to 
Feel like he was frisking. 

When his words began to 
Sound like scratched metal, 
While his stare hurt her eyes, 
She didn't want him to read her. 

When his lovemaking was akin 
To a blunt sword's stab; 
And he no longer had any 
Place in her heart and mind. 

She knew she had to step out
Of the same space he existed in. 
She left a letter, and a cheque, 
And walked out into the night.

Copyright ©  Winepoetess 2017




No comments:

Post a Comment