to the twenty-sixth power | poems

291 13 1
                                    

your words
were like a slap
to the face
actually-
thinking about it now
a slap would've
hurt less
the stinging would've
only lasted
hours
at most
and then the pain
would vanish
but your words
still hurt me
anytime i
recall even a syllable
the slap wouldn't have kept
me up at odd hours
the slap wouldn't have me
question the loyalty
of every companion
i make
the slap wouldn't have
left my soul
broken and bruised
unlike your words
did
-n.c

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