Poetry

They Say

The bitter medicine scraps down my throat

Corroding the sensitive skin, leaving a bloody trail

As it carves a path down to my lungs, my heart

A taste of your own medicine, They say

Taste? All I taste is my own blood

It doesn’t hurt though, shouldn’t it hurt?

Now you know what it feels like, They say

They don’t get it though,

I don’t feel anything,

Why can’t I feel anything?

Revenge is sweet, They say

I wonder then, why it’s so bitter

Revenge is a dish best served cold, They say

Then why is the blood warm in my mouth?

Are you happy now? , I say

You expected corrosive lava

But my volcano erupted a long time ago

Now I have hardened to an igneous rock

You’ve turned me into stone, who’s only emotion

Is the bloody tears that can only drip.

*

A pain exists

Correction, a pain existed

But I don’t feel it, not anymore

I am a frozen rock

My emotions numbed,

These actions of spite,

Of malicious intent,

Have left me no longer caring

About what They say

Left me no longer caring,

At all.

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8 thoughts on “They Say

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