Little Miss Chatterbox

Raise your hand if you know someone like this.

 

Oozing blowzy figments,

stories seep like sap from your lips—

then gush down your décolletage.

 

Spill your soul to strangers,

crack open your skull for passers-by,

spout secrets you never meant to keep.

 

We see you raw inside,

slit from here to there,

torn and pierced and pared,

bloody without care.

 

Maybe if you keep talking we won’t notice.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

i married three of 'em...

[Purple Rubber Ducky]

Wow that was amazing, i especially love this line "stories seep like sap from your lips", the descriptions are brilliant and there's defiantly emotion in this poem, I loved it!

[Carla (trying to make e..]

who is this about? HMMM....