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Gently you roll your rough hand over my trembling lips, and for a moment I am dulled into compliance. The kind of compliance that makes you hold your scream, makes you breath less comfortable. For a moment I am able to place myself at A friends summer home. I said for a moment. Crash. Now I am in your grips again. The blood that drops, drips and drizzles my soul all over your insanity. Your lips curl a grin as you lap up my death like a dried out dog. I am afraid now. I am sure you have given the blow to introduce me to our maker. The hands that once stroked my fears away Are the hands that want to kill me. Why? How does love turn so wicked? As I look into your abyss of hatred for me, I wonder how twisted I am for ever loving you. |
you have some very good metaphors throughout this poem, You poem had a gripping affect on me as I read it, like putting together a puzzle just after you laid all the pieces on the table. I also like the set-up,for it didn't reveal where you were heading in this poem. | Posted on 2004-12-16 00:00:00 | by edthepoet | [ Reply to This ] | |