We once were part time lovers and full time friends.
Should I have told you what I meant? or meant what I said?
Does his broken heart have a lost soul too?
Should I turn to psychic powers or magic eight balls for my answers?
Prick thy finger you little prick!
I remember when laughter was our best medicine.
Now the hatred has become my our best abuse.
Once we had sweating tongues of lust.
Now all I have left is a dry mouth of dust.
You used to tickle me pink and fuck me purple.
Now I wonder if it was your family genes or what was in your jeans that I was really attracted to?
Should I have given a damn? Or given a shit?
After you deactivated and deceived my bleeding heart.
It has turned from seasons of summer to seasons of burning salt.
Once burning like a honeymoon delight, now cold as a twilight midnight.
Your big white lies eventually turned into lil black eyes.
Full of polar escapades and molar cavities of pain.
I was blind to see, while you were out to sea.
Your left went right but your right went wrong.
I used silent concentrations and read your thoughts.
I finally found your unsolved mysteries and hidden puzzle pieces.
While you irony was a bit irksome.
Will you live forever or die young in your own abuse?
Will you ever look at me the same inside of a minute?
And like fainting fathers and mesmerizing mothers will anyone watch?
"1/16/99"
Comments That People Said About This Poem
* Posted by Sheila on February 16, 1999 - ...you used to tickle me pink and fuck me purple.. why do I like that line so much? This was really good, I loved the play on words! Keep it up
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