I strain to return to myself—
a peony dewy-eyed, unbeknownst to
the bittersweet taste of your chocolate eyes,
yet biting into it
while you watch.
I dared to do that.
I became your dream
with my pure red mouth,
arched back,
eyes singing.
You wanted to listen some more, didn’t you?
But then, that is all you ever did:
You wanted,
nothing more, nothing less,
and look what you’ve done;
My heart crumbled into pomegranate seeds—
I pick them up on my knees,
smear my mouth with them,
staining it red
as I eat them.
I pretend they are remnants of
the good girl I used to be,
white peony petals.
I don’t want you any longer;
I want her back.
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 10:28 AM UTC
I strain to return to myself—
a peony dewy-eyed, unbeknownst to
the bittersweet taste of your chocolate eyes,
yet biting into it
while you watch.
I dared to do that.
I became your dream
with my pure red mouth,
arched back,
eyes singing.
You wanted to listen some more, didn’t you?
But then, that is all you ever did:
You wanted,
nothing more, nothing less,
and look what you’ve done;
My heart crumbled into pomegranate seeds—
I pick them up on my knees,
smear my mouth with them,
staining it red
as I eat them.
I pretend they are remnants of
the good girl I used to be,
white peony petals.
I don’t want you any longer;
I want her back.
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