Chap Stick
All I know is I want it
gone. Down, with my fingers
digging in pockets, I feel
chap stick you asked for.
You rub it against
your split lips. Bleeding,
cracked. "Thanks,"
you say. I stole
your pain, gave you relief.
Putting it back in my pocket,
the chap stick feels lighter,
knowing it will never be
used again.
Words
- Kyle Edward Harris
- "That's the price tag, no discounts, no bargains. Losing my first love was like living in a perfect house, with the perfect front porch and matching dormers where the key finally worked to let me in, until without enough warning, it caught fire and was gone, leaving a thin coat of ash that would gray my life for years, making me cry when I saw a perfect front porch or a light shining from an upstairs window."- The One & Only Aunt Nancy
2 comments:
... yeah that was dirty.
I warned you.
Post a Comment