pull out the knife,
from where you slid it in my side.
Let the blood,
rich and rosy,
drench your hands,
a reminder, a memento
to the times we passed
untainted, warm in the sun.
Avert your eyes,
from my prostrate pain,
out of sight,
you can raise your head,
pretending the role you played
didn’t bring me down.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 4:30 PM UTC
pull out the knife,
from where you slid it in my side.
Let the blood,
rich and rosy,
drench your hands,
a reminder, a memento
to the times we passed
untainted, warm in the sun.
Avert your eyes,
from my prostrate pain,
out of sight,
you can raise your head,
pretending the role you played
didn’t bring me down.
