not like a question
never a polite request, and
no more sweet milky whispers
that tantalized, not terrorized the ears


like a hammer
like your voice is a hammer
and I am your nail, every hit
harder than the last one,
the percussive jolt through
the drums inside me –
my ears are crying blood tears


it’s too much sometimes, baby,
you know, after a while
(like a decade)
it actually starts to hurt
to realize that even if I listen well,
I’m still never enough


Written for the Daily Post – thanks for the inspiration, WordPress!



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