deepundergroundpoetry.com

donít say...

ďDonít say goodbyeĒ
she whispered during the 30 second black out
of her hands around my throat
kissing the skin with bruises and nail moons

I was a painting of her rage
the canvas never blank
occasionally primed haphazardly
for the next dousing of lighter fluid
spat out into the atmosphere
to land sharply - depicting the contours
of what would come to be a black eye

And I - always painted
in yellow and purple and broken skin
to the soundtrack of my own screams
an eternal echo ďIím not coming backĒ
my hair ripping in her manicured grasp
lost in the mercilessness of spilt blood
on a white tiled floor

And thereís nothing as delicate
as the touch-up kisses on a work of art
thatís a flame away from spontaneous combustion
the flurry of brushwork enough to blend
the bitter edge into submission and oblivion
to hang meekly upon the wall
positioned for private viewage only

ďDonít say goodbyeĒ
she whispered during the 30 second black out
of her hands around my throat
before my palm sought the cartilage in her nose
to paint a new day with

© Indie Adams 2012
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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