Monday, November 30, 2009


Poetry to Prose VI

My acid tongue will burn you, eat into your heart, and corrode it away. To an outsider, they're mere words, but I'll rip to shreds all you've ever known, and you'll love it, you'll take it. You'll beg for my newly sharpened tongue to cut deep into your soul, into that wall you built. You don't know what evil dwells here pleading to be unleashed and set free, to spread her murderous rage and slide her rusty iron hands around your throat to choke your words, crush your air, and leave her handprint branded on your neck. It will be a permanent reminder every time you look in the mirror. Those words, those killing words, and the massacre your eyes laid on me. Look at me and see yourself. Turn your coward eyes on me now. Look at me and see your creation. Love the sharp acid tongue, and invoke its use, take it inside. Feel the fire, the blazing wound, and watch your sanguine covered hands ball into fists. It's futile to resist. You'll look at me and beg for more.

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