Jun 2015
Her tongue like a whip.
Her words lashed
Across my back
Leaving weeping welts of pain.
A balm administered
To ease the hurt
But the memory
Lingers.
Spilt wine
Can't be put back into the bottle.
Her words lashed
Across my back
Leaving weeping welts of pain.
A balm administered
To ease the hurt
But the memory
Lingers.
Spilt wine
Can't be put back into the bottle.
Once you say something, it cannot be unsaid
