bottle

I am battered, bruised, bleeding through bandaged elbows

Cut short of glory and held in front of hungry sharks

Scantily clad and freezing to death over just about every word

You ever spoke in front of me.

Tormented and skillfully unaware of more than I can take

Holding my just kicked gut as I watched your silhouette walk away

Bent on broken knee, upon the glass from the broken bottle

That I threw at you when you told me about the women you brought to our bed.

Her hair is still on my pillow and her foot prints are still on the rug

How could you?

Reviews

[bob, small b. aka invs]

can't get much more emotionally raw than this. the words are like open sores.

[EMF]

Christ, this is gut ripping stuff. I can only hope it's not true. Assuming it isn't, you drew me in so fast and strong that by the end I wanted to belt him. You stirred up so much emotion and wrote with such command and word play it is incredible. A wonderful write about a terrible situation. Incredible.