Kryptonite Poem by Belle Violet

Kryptonite



Fair fight,
Kryptonite,
I wish I hadn't seen you
tonight.
I wish you weren't
so easy
to write.
Words flow
like lava
from a fount -
not my mouth.
Because these things
I lack
the balls
to say.
And who am I
to whine
about this
anyway?
It's true, I hate
your lovable face.
The familiar taste
you leave on my lips.
I hate that need
that weakens
my knees.
And I hate that
you feel it,
also,
with me.
We
are gluttonous.
Compatible, clusterf**ks.
the precipice
that tempts
the other
to walk.
You're the closest thing
I've found to love;
Is it really meant
to gnaw so much?
I absolutely hate
that air you breathe.
Because at some point,
I know,
it''ll travel
to me,
and I'll draw it in
deep.
You're not worth
you're weigh in
pig waste,
some might say,
but you're Italian
sausage.
You're my
biggest falter.
You're the worthiest
of adversaries
And me,
baby? I'm
the one you
should have married.

Thursday, June 12, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Love
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