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by Fyn Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Experience · #1706253
The day I left for good.
Words uttered through shadowed tongue;
sounds clipped by razor-ed teeth
cut mid thought, chopped
into something else.
Unspoken thought stopped
just shy of blood.

Velvet gloved steel-
a caress this time
or vice gripped warning?
Mere seconds to predict
a mood that morning.
No armor; not even dressed yet.

Blue eyes pooled to black,
steel hammer beats nailed conclusion
as bones shatter and ribs crack.
He walks away, feeling vindicated;
I'll be good now. No going back-
I'm good, and gone.



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