Poetry

Don’t Get me Started

I’m short with you because you cut me down

When I’ve already been cut enough

I don’t need another knife in my back

Another keeper

Another judge

So keep it to yourself

And I won’t tell you how I’m feeling, either–

Because honey, don’t even get me started. 

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Poetry

Bitter Medicine

Alight, I burn
Bright and fast
I writhe I melt
In paralyzing stillness
Restless with fever and wanting
A chill so deep
Eating me alive
It twists and turns
And breathes and cries
Threatening to burst at the seams

The bitter pill
If only as the sun sets
Ushers in the darkness
A twisting of the senses
To fix it break it solve it stop it

Alive in my stupor
Watching the sting
My soul numb
Limbs weak
Thoughts racing through my mind
No clear winner
For now
As alight, I burn

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