My finger lingers
Over the delete button.
One little caress, a mere press
And the process
Will be complete.
The call button.
Am I a glutton
For the fire
With a desire
To burn on a pyre
Of my own making?
Heads shaking
I see
Telling me
I need to be free
Of thee.
One final spree
For you and me?
I imagine the glee
In your eyes
Where no pitty lies.
The smile
Of the Cheshire cat vanishes while
Only a thin lipped grin
Of distaine remains.
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Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
Thank you for the share. Kevin