I deny the notion,
no, the idea,
that your heart was ever mine to break.
I’ll put it simply, but not kindly.
I deny your touch,
I deny the push of your lips against mine
and the feel of your hands on my hips.
I deny the utterance of the words “I love…”
you’ll feel your lies jilted by my fingertips,
the way you stilled my cries.
“your sorrow is not for today”
but there never came a tomorrow.
Here’s the catch,
the key I hold to the lock,
you didn’t see.
It’s in my hand,
it’s forming these letters to sculpt these words
and create this poetry.
In short, I’ll put it simply, but again, not kindly.
I’m a writer, bitch,
you can’t hush me.
Here is my response to the word prompt Deny over at The Daily Post. I almost didn’t post it, but if I want to use this blog to get writing down and out I can’t be fussing over things not being just as I like them. Some things need to be on and of the moment and if I look back at them and cringe then meh, so be it. I never tried to fool anyone into thinking I was perfect. I am perfect though…look into my eyes…peeerrrrfeeecc….no? Damnit! I knew I should have stayed in magician school!
I’ve seen Grabbety Covens’ response to this (which is great) and I’m hoping to see some more!