Poems

Her

Her words repeat in his head like a never ending nightmare

trapped in this prison he calls his mind

words attack him, viciously ripping open fresh wounds

Adding to the countless of the dozen wounds inflicted by that hateful shuree he called his lover.

He questions, how could a person once so innocent,
pure spit out poison as easily as a fresh summer's day breeze.

His kneecaps,
unable to carry the extruding weight no longer finally

crash to the floor carrying his lifeless body with him

all is silent

except for the gut wrenching sobs that bellow from his tear soaked lips

that has cascaded down his rich brown skin.