Saturday, January 4, 2014

Terminal Spin

And so it goes
The palpable ache in your voice
The slow burn of chaos
The crawl of acid in my throat
And Rigor mortis in my skin
I brace for the deluge
You are the perfect storm
And I am always wreckage on your shore
You shattered me a lifetime ago
Swept away in the flotsam and jetsam
Of your unfettered ego
And your insatiable …
Candy melts sweet can’t sustain
You’re fetid with the choices you made
You savaged my soul
Your little bastard child
Tossed out on the lawn with the soiled sheets
For the world to see
And you savored it.

And somehow I’m bound
By the memory of grace
And Sunday school songs
To spread my brittle wings and shelter you
Even as the ribs snap
I bleed out any integrity
Just for you
A mother’ s love is…
F... that…really
You only show me the horror in my own soul
With your black hole heart
And I am on terminal spin 
TL Boehm 

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