PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I can taste your anger.

It hangs heavily in the air,

Lingering there amid the harsh words

That have been spoken, 

That have spun themselves like spiderwebs

Between us, waiting for me

To breathe it in,

To take it into my lungs,

To let it cloud my mind.

Waiting, and wanting for me to 

Entangle myself in the silken cords,

Lose myself to the cloying scent

That seduces and destroys

With easy familiarity.

Your truths wash over my skin

Making their marks, marching

Over the tear-stained tracks inlaid in my heart.

Your raw fury strikes me 

Where I am most vulnerable

Because you know how to hurt me,

Are aware of how best to break me.

But I will not be broken again,

I have shattered too much already.

My heartstrings that are comprised of dust

And old memories cannot be touched

By your flickering flames.

I had never thought to take

Comfort in the casual carnage

That laid waste to my mind

Those many years ago.

But now I can see that

Somehow,

Subtly,

It made me strong.

I will not partake of your poison.

You seek a reaction

That I am unwilling to give.

I won't give you that satisfaction.

This dance is fueled by anger and rage

The burning soul forged in flame

That roars as wild spirits sear each other,

Whirling ever closer,

Burning their patterns into 

Each other's skin, a whirlpool

Of pain which drops

Great gouts of ash

In it's wake.