Words, words, words


They cluttered the gutter of my mind.
I rend them to pieces, tore them apart, shredded each bit

I let the ink bleach its mark to the back of my tongue,
the roof of my mouth

I abused every line, thought, and word
I could get my filthy bitten lips around.

[Its no surprise when I choke]

[And how i wished]

fucking wished

I could remember how to swallow these words.

Forget them, push them to the back of my mind.

[Because, mon cher]

Whats the point of words?
Once you have the meaning, you forget the word.

[Just like how you forget me]

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem