A Soft Settling

You have the right to your soft words. Your soft life. Her soft body that doesn’t cut you open at night. I’ll let you turn my sharp and bruise into a memory. Your soft head. Soft heart. Soft teeth. You didn’t even get a piece of me. I’ve scarred myself worse just breathing; just being. There is nothing soft about me – about my love – or my want – nothing soft about my hands that have dug myself out of more than one grave, bursting through the wet grass, stretching towards dark skies. I am not that kind. If she wants your soft, then want her back because my sharp and bruise needs more than that.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: