You sharpened your show
of indifference
In attempt to sever
my emotional strings
You twisted the knife
in the soft flesh of situation
But when my back was turned.
You cowardly thing
The death you sought
was to free yourself
And in the fields of my death,
buried your guilt
So you could run
to your greener horizon
Wiping the blade clean
of blood that you spilt
Sounds like you had a very hurtful experience here Stevie, hope you have recovered. Very well expressed.
The memory. Reflected to us on that blood stained knife. Keeps itself elusive enough to be interesting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Memories wiped. Sometimes a good thing.Mr right is waiting for you.