Sensual Scourge

Calculated scum is all too nice 
to pen the pit I engaged in more than thrice,

To describe the sleaze you came so sharply dressed
sexy and smelling good, who wouldn’t be obsessed?

From across the room you saw through my breasts
thought you would take them and make me eternally repressed

Your eyes they undressed me, you were the reaper of my soul 
you took my heart and massacred its roll

A bloody murder in the name of an urge
I now felt the dank, moldy experience of a scourge

A dagger has caressed the feel of my skin
in my mind is it worth it over a useless has-been?

A river of tears, the smell of old vomit
encrusted my heart that burned regret like a comet

And now, although many years have passed
my heart still smells of singed naïveness and ash.

Digging up the past can be a therapeutic thing at times. Thanks for the opportunity to perhaps share in someone else's pain or regret.  © an hour ago, Georgieanna J. Harp    pain • relationship • heartbreak