that scar there, yes that one-
It’s where the love used to live
thanks for your words
like the circus
the sewer
and the skewer
you drove thru
me
a rotisserie for your love
a bend over backward
pushover shove
easy meat
for your lances glove
cheap dish
for a poison hiss
plosive
a heart melt for you
forgiving overdose of crimson hue
bleeding
from the brute of you
come back
stop
enough rope
drop the trap door
knees floor flop
and prey
come back
anything for you
more bastard you are
more thru me you run
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Comments
<Deleted User> (5646)
Thu 29th Jan 2009 22:43
Ah, a weakness is a habit, hard to break free from.
Nice poem Loretta darling,
Love Janet.x
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Francine
Thu 17th Dec 2009 20:32
You capture the heartache so well...
Hope you've recovered love ; )