Poetry,  Speaking My Mind

Layers Part III

Carry my heart
On your jagged hook
My lungs are
Punctured because of you
And you don’t care
Really, you don’t.
The knife just keeps searing me
My blood continues to flow
Enough eventually comes
Now I’m finally dying
Then you start to bandage me
Although I never hear an apology
Let’s forget you’ve ever hurt me
It’s easier than bringing this up again, right?
Zero chances I’ll ever let you back in
I at least have that much self-respect
Next time though I won’t allow you to
Get away with this fucked up treatment you fondly call “love”

© 2014 Vic Romero

(Acrostic: Compartmentalizing)
**image from Google

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: