Pissed Off
Heather Molloy
Pissed off, blood spills
steaming fogs of anger as the
God Damnits of broken shoelaces,
stubbed toes, and blonde-bimbo
Double D drivers who prefer to
focus on phone conversations
than to yield, rise up in
bubbles of sweat to my skin's
surface. Your vomitous disgraces
of drunken threesome sexcapades
in darkened alleys decorated with
shards and bits of broken Bud Lite
bottles boil out of me...My fingers
were once white, wrinkled wet with
your taste...But now your skin smells
nothing like your skin. You smell
of snakes. I don't believe in
Santa Claus or compromise. I don't
believe in your hot mascara tears.
Inhaling an ounce of indifference,
smoke seeps into my lungs to melt
away the constant reminder of your
deceit. Waste Nothing ... Shotgun exhale.
I release to you, hoping you will
forget yourself too.
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