"Calm before the storm"
has been on my lips ever since
you started looking at me with
disgust written all over your
face, (don't worry I'm revolting
there's no blame there) here look
how many tongues I can speak.
Are you intimidated yet? My eyes
are drawn dark to scare you
are you properly. Frightened. No?
I'll try harder, you say that too
and you look sad or angry (they're
the same thing these days) where's
my sympathy? You want me to
tell you I love you but how can I
when you slice my tongue every
time give me a chance to breathe
(let up your hold on my throat
please) this is the storm you are
the outlaw your gun is firing it
hasn't. Stopped. Stop. Please the
skin on your nose is burnt
red from my words you meant to
make me cry you changed my
blood pack for wine and now it's
thrumming in my veins these
words will never stop. Stop. They
won't stop because you keep
firing the gun. Stop. Help me stop.
Help.