Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Till Death Do Us Part

What if the woman you gave your 
heart to like she needed a transplant, 
was the same one that stepped on it 
like she had a death wish and 
land mines were buried deep in the 
war front of your chest, or vice versa?
I imagine regret would feel like a sword 
cutting clean through your wedding vows. 
Years will begin to wear you thin and 
bad blood will thicken your skin.
Screams will be earsplitting enough to 
wake a boy out of his sweet dreams. 
No bedtime story or goodnight kiss to 
put him back to sleep, just routine. 
Just the quiet in his own mind to 
disappear in.


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