Sunday, 3 June 2018

Like A Kick To The Groyne

What was it like to strike? To take my head and put it on the pike. To cross my heart then stick it with a spike. You used my love like a finger propping up your dyke - holding back your flood of feelings as a stop gap between being liked.

And then like a Chinese peasant building that great wall, I was interred after falling from your thrall.

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