Squeezing the Bitch
Squeezing the bitch,
Out of me.
Fighting the bitch,
The all-over-me itch,
To retaliate,
And wound,
To the quick.
Where does it
Come from?
Such good,
Gone rotten,
In a shake,
In a word.
I bless,
Then curse.
Out of control,
I say,
Terrible things,
Then die of shame,
The next moment.
A violent tongue,
Spitting fire,
With a torrent,
Of unrepeatables.
I only lash out,
In perceived self-defence,
But mostly,
I am wrong.
There was no
Malice,
Intended.
My skin,
Is too thin.
Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 603 times
Written on 2007-01-13 at 18:41
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