I don't believe you.
I don't subscribe to your thoughts
and the words that trickle out
of your head, to fall ******
on the pavement and disappear
down the gutter when
the rain comes.
I hope the rain comes soon.
A raging, rampant monsoon
to flood me dry and clean away
the raw, red finger-prints your diction
imprinted, a blood-red necklace ringing my throat.
I don't care for your intonation.
You, heedless of the power
of speeches simple sounds that decimate
veins and rupture explosive, ebony vessels,
setting me adrift on Moses' sea.
But, despite all, I reply in kind.
And
careless words leave me;
cutting you open.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
I don't believe you.
I don't subscribe to your thoughts
and the words that trickle out
of your head, to fall ******
on the pavement and disappear
down the gutter when
the rain comes.
I hope the rain comes soon.
A raging, rampant monsoon
to flood me dry and clean away
the raw, red finger-prints your diction
imprinted, a blood-red necklace ringing my throat.
I don't care for your intonation.
You, heedless of the power
of speeches simple sounds that decimate
veins and rupture explosive, ebony vessels,
setting me adrift on Moses' sea.
But, despite all, I reply in kind.
And
careless words leave me;
cutting you open.
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