You are as cruel as
Joan Rivers on Fashion Police,
with a tongue like a blade,
meant to carve the truth,
straight out of my skin,
you're also taking the,
ambition out of my veins.
If my feelings were a person,
they'd walk away to,
avoid further damage,
and I'm ready to start calling you medusa,
because with every word,
another part of my heart,
is broken and turned to stone.
Your point is as far fetched,
as a puppy's chew toy,
gone with a strong wind,
and I'm the only one running after it,
in seek of bringing it back,
to throw in your face,

when you start to feel regret.