Lyn L

Bruises

It a strange feeling, I’d call it a little odd
Not being guilty over someone else’s bruises that you caused

I broke your ribs on purpose
And with each bone that I break
I know you’ll think of me
Every time your laughter aches

While I’ve never been one to enjoy licking my own wounds
I find that your pain tastes pretty good

So I’ll pull vulnerability from you like baby teeth
I’ll lick the blood from your gums
I’ll pick your scabs and drink
Confessions bleeding from your tongue

Words laced with equal parts
Of desire and cyanide
You slip out of consciousness like it’s clothing
But couldn’t forget me if you tried