Adios
I’m finding I can’t let you go
All this time has passed
Your memory’s still holding fast
Indifferent to my unyielding adios
Stuck in all the corners like
Grime that won't scrub off
The corners of your mouth curl up
In that sneer that’s almost alive
Each scraping of your fetid image
Leaves a raw and gaping wound
That pierces my broken heart anew
Head indulgent of this scrimmage
Your lies should be enough
Convinced by your fists, too
Still all those years pull me to you
And that’s no small stuff
Every beaten dog has her day
When sentimentality disappears
With nothing more to fear
I drew up from my feet of clay
Adios, then, dark curse
I scour you from every precious space
From my mirror stares back a face
Of one who will be healed with verse
Copyright © Tess Norton | Year Posted 2014
|