Certain Kind of Poison

You have been sitting on my couch

acting like a cigarette, tell me –

now someone’s smoked you,

how does it feel to be lit

then thrown in the ash bowl?

You were never anything

but something for her to

wipe her lips on, and

to catch her breath

when it went wandering.

You sit in her lungs,

even now, when she’s

determined never to

touch you again.

There is such a thing

as loving too well.

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7 thoughts on “Certain Kind of Poison

  1. I liked this poem a whole lot. It’s graphic and telling.”How does it feel to be lit” and “something for her to wipe her lips on”. God, These lines are hunkin’ delicious, girl. You go!

      1. Now you must use them in a sentence. This is how it’s done:

        He leapt over the shattered punk stump in the steaming Alabama pine wood with his Uzi slung from his
        hunkin’ delicious shoulder.

        So there. ๐Ÿ™‚

Thoughts? I love those.

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