A Sour Love Poem
Going with my fingers through your greasy hair,
I remembered how much I wanted to touch you
how much I desired your lips
in the rainy afternoons while walking to my private composition lessons.
Seeing the hellish grin on your new girlfriend’s face,
I felt as if a thin blade went through my body
very thin and very cold
at the same time burning me
and filthy disgust.
The moment of waking ignited my rage
very short-lived rage
which died in indifference
Because the waking was real.
© 2015, MK
Note: These were written for this week’s prompt at Three Word Wednesday: Greasy, Hellish, Ignite