Don’t Cut Me: A poem

Be straight with me,

don’t serve me words

 

to cut me straight –

     to cut me.

 

Or hell rain down 

     to flash the floods

 

To bring about the last.

 

And then …

 

Don’t cut me.

 

{Truth or Con-sequences}

The Inkwill and Black tears.

 

deanna

 

20190204_095423

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.