As you spoke

I could feel the blade

Separate my skin from my flesh

Like peeling a weeping orange

Hot crimson cascades down

And the icy contempt

Grating against exposed nerve endings

That scream like the wretches

Of an agonizing death.

View angrylaughter's Full Portfolio
allets's picture

Talk About

being cut up into little pieces. Sharp tongues make it understandable why in Medieval times tongues were cut out. It's a  double edged blade - if loved, the pain is sharper, if not loved, the stain covers the heart with glad what happened to you didn't happen to me thoughts. It's human. ~Star~