Foul Sisters

Written by: Bradley Musgrave

Bitterness holds me.
I do not like her embrace
because it is cold.

Her touch makes me rot
not outwardly, but inside
corrupting my soul.

Her wretched voice crows:
"Everyone else is crooked."
No one else speaks up.

I do not love her,
but when she is here with me
we see eye to eye.

She then reminds me:
"Condemnation will come soon."
I hate her also.

Together they drone
robbing me of any will
to get up and leave.

The sisters love me.
I withhold my affection,
yet they cling to me.

They each take a turn,
kissing me with rancid breath
and bugs in their hair.

I want far better.
I need better company,
yet I sit with them.