Your Words
Your words,
are projectiles
dripping with Arsenic
and aimed at my heart
spitting out darts and swords
that expertly find their mark
and draw blood
Your words,
when aimed at others
are carried by Pixies
and sprinkled
with honey and sugar coatings
that melt in their ears
and taste of confection
Your words,
cloak me in pain and guilt
for undone atrocities
and imagined factors
as your blame
riddles my soul
causing it to
prune, wither, and crust
Your words,
accusing, spiteful, degrading, malicious
paintings of what I once thought
was an indestructible bond of Love
that no one
should be able to destroy
and yet
you do so
with your words.
I've no soul left
no appetite for your touch
no desire to want for anything
except
to become deaf
so I will no longer
have to listen to
your words
Copyright © Sandra Hudson | Year Posted 2006
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