Tuesday, April 14, 2015

The Train




picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375909900123907382/



Your words are a slur in my peripheral vision,
assaulting my tenacious control
with your frenzied and rampant hysteria.
Your poisoned breath tries to violate my flesh,
shred every page I’ve ever written,
and you laugh with condemnation
at the fabrications your callous
and ignorant mind has conjured up.
Now the train speeds even faster,
there are no monsters under my bed,
you are a smear that recedes
in the darkness of my fascination.




9 comments:

  1. I have I had a few visits from your friend. More than a few, actually. That image is awesome!

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  2. I wouldn't want to cross his track! While I'm here, I really must thank you most sincerely for reading and commenting on so many of my shorts stories in one go!

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  3. Wow, what vivid imagery! Love your stuff, Shadow.

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  4. Magnificent photo! Lovely post ~

    Happy Week to you,
    artmusedog and carol

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  5. And here was I thinking you really cared for me . . . :)
    Gosh . . . you have such a way with words . . . :) x

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  6. I hope you come out of this one okay. At least there are not monsters under your bed.

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  7. This feels like my most recent relationships. Just a toxic mess of poison that is smeared across my rearview mirror. Beautiful words for such ugly feelings.

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  8. "Your poisoned breath tries to violate my flesh,

    shred every page I’ve ever written,

    and you laugh with condemnation

    at the fabrications your callous

    and ignorant mind has conjured up."

    I don't show him my poems anymore cuz when he is drunk, he makes fun of my inner most thoughts, and that hurts like hell. Here is to not being bullied ... by no one, k? ... smiles. Love, cat.

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