Getting Off.. of me

poem by: Theresa Taylor
Written on Aug 11, 2016

Get off... of me
Your sickness is between my knees
Pain comes when I cry, "enough!"
Your spit upon my cheek and down my neck
Oh God, are you done yet?
You have my body so close but my head is so far
It's all I can do to salve the bruising heart
When I can't run for cover
From you, my ruthless lover

Tags: metaphor, scary, pain, weird,

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Sun Chaser commented:

Ouch,painted a cruel reality quite well.

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