Your mouth is a gun
And you fire words like bullets
You want to hurt her
As she's hurt you
But her body welcomes them
Like old friends
And instead of bleeding out on the floor
Like you did
She picks them out
And tosses them back to you
As if returning something she'd borrowed
And she says,
"Better luck next time"
But there is no next time
You've turned the gun upon yourself
YOU ARE READING
hush (a collection of my poetry)
Poetrylet it be quiet if just for a moment. not silent just quiet. listen to your breathing and your heartbeat and the world outside the window close your eyes and take a breath. appreciate the puddles of silence as much as the street of sound. app...
