A Drink Worth Savoring

You stand behind me;

Blood dripping off your switchblade.

Drops of warmth splatter atop frozen cement.

Trust shattered like my rib-caged bones;

Air becomes harder to breathe.

And for what—so you could fulfill a selfish desire?

Accomplishing such a feat means,

you bruised me too many times to count.

I took it. I took it some more, and I fucking took it some more.

I should have trusted myself long ago, but didn’t,

and where did it lead me?

I let you in close enough to cut the wind from my sails,

and now my canvas runs red.

You arrogant prick. You ignorant ass!

You’ll never realize the damage you created,

as you repeatedly kicked sand into my eyes.

A drawn line that was clearly defined, vanishes,

until I am so blinded by pain,

it’s transformed into rage.

If you wanna feel my heat, I’ll show you how to burn.

If you wanna know how I feel, I’ll drown you in a perspired dream,

only to watch you dehydrate from exhaustion,

then devour your soul when you are weak and thirsty.

You poked a sleeping bear and I am now roused,

but instead of being your monster,

I will exit your life faster than a shooting star racing through your darkest sky,

and leave you empty and abandoned in a forest of nightmares,

to greet your demons and meet your devil.

They will take care of my light work,

while I sit back and enjoy the sunrise,

sipping on a cocktail of your pitiful tears.

Your taste may be awful and bitter,

but knowing that you are dried and withered because of it

is worth every gulp.

So, I drink you down slowly to savor,

your arrival in hell.