Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
R M Sims Sep 2011
Words,
sharpened on the tongue,
hurled to wound,
to pierce,
to destroy.

Words,
dripping with venom,
flung to sting,
to burn,
to consume.

Words,
syllables weighted and heavy,
wielded to pummel,
to beat,
to crush.

Words,
spoken by you,
who gave me love,
hope,
happiness.

Words,
your weapon of choice,
better than hands,
than belts,
than feet.

Words,
wet with disgust,
ready to pour into,
swirl around,
drown me.

Your words.
R M Sims Sep 2011
The world is bright
At 6 am
Brighter than I remember.
The sun is not up
But I am.

The world is dark
At midnight
Inky and calm.
The moon is not out
But I am.

A shot of pink
On the horizon
Bold and awesome, blinding.
The sun is up,
Bounding into the sky,
Waking the world,
Creating the dawn.
Smiling down, rosy and warm.

The clouds clear
Cold crystal light cuts
Harsh shadows enveloping secrets.
The moon is out,
Mystery and fear
Imagined and heightened
By what is not seen
Creeping in the dark.

The sun and moon
Revolve in the sky
Switching places
Day into night.
The people blur together
Bustling and whirling with
The dark and light.

— The End —