Tiny Fists

It feels as if tiny hands,
are grabbing my eyes,
in fistfuls and fistfuls of rage,
and shaking them around in their sockets.

When I think of you,
and the way you always,
squeezed me so tight;
my stomach dips the tip of its tongue,
into this pool of grief,
spawning inside me,
and it doesn't like the taste. 

There's a residue on my tongue,
and I don't know how to get it off,
and it feels like the layer is growing,
until my mouth is full,
and I can't help but choke,
on the amount of desire I have,
to see your lips curl up at the edges,
just one more time. 

I've never loved anyone else more,
than I have learned to love you,
throughout my entire life.

Reviews

[Katrina]

Wow. This is really good. The last stanza had a lot of power behind it -- it really packed a good punch. Nice seeing such a unique voice on this site.