But No More

1/3/2016

You with your silver tongue,
your words weaving threads of joy,
raising my soul,
leaving me resplendent.

You with your poison tongue,
your words weaving threads of misery,
razing my soul,
leaving me despondent.

You with your forked tongue,
never revealing your true identity,
each moment a new adventure, yet,
always a guessing game.

Do you even know the impact,     
of your words?
Do you even care,
how they affect others?

What I should do, 
what would be best,
is to run, so very far away,
I’m still trying to heal myself.

But that silver tongue,
keeps calling me back,
and I tell myself to run,
but like the Sirens, you call to me.

And as a child, 
I return to that irresistible,
safety of you,
only to be scorned again.

Yet still I return,
my soul shipwrecked,
upon your rocky shore,
a wagging puppy, awaiting his reward.


1/11/2016
But no more

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Silver | Poison .
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