I’m suffering.
Tears of gasoline, beaded down my cheeks.
And Darling, your kisses are the firepower.
You want to see how long I can stand to suffer
Without speaking?
Honey, keep preaching to the choir.
I refuse to speak,
In fear that I will choke on my own words-
Infused with negativity and
Melancholy blues you used to
Sing to me.
That subtle, lackadaisical smile
That got me to fall so hard in the first place
Means nothing to me now.
You’re artistically numbing my creativity
With those vacant eyes…
I used to see the sunset in them,
And now,
I can only see your
Tilted and twisted views on society
And the love ones who surround you.
You may be blind and wounded,
But at least the old dog can smell
That I am indeed,
In heat.