Day to Day Poetry, poetry

#5 Murder

One word to describe you – STOIC,
versus me – GULLIBLE.
Were you always that good at swallowing pain,
or were you just good at pretending so
that GUILT can flow out of me in an APOLOGETIC
deluge of sorry’s and please forgive me’s
coupled with bent knees, palms raised, pleading –
when a minute ago, I could have sworn,
it was you who was at fault?

You’d help me bury a body, right? she asked,
without hesitation, dead pan, straight-faced I said, “of course”.
And I would too, no questions asked, even at the edge of
life and death, even at the very cusp of it –
right nor wrong has no role in it,
FOOLISH and NAIVE are the clothes
I’d wear for you.

There’s a hammer that pounds into my chest.
And it knocks me out –



Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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