Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.
I beg to differ.
Sticks and Stones
The memories of a forgotten love hang
thick like humid air on this long summer night.
The angels of quiet mercy could
not save me from the sticky web
of a false promise.
And I do not want them anymore.
Yet they cling like wet fabric to my soul.
The words spoken in a bruised
promise lay in a pyre
like fractured syllables of a broken
love sonnet -
forever lost, forever mistaken for something
that never was and could never be
hidden behind truth that I could never
see because they were like sticks and stones
crushing my heart and breaking my bones.
Never, never, never.
Leave, sweet sorrow, and let me
live.
