January 15, 2018

 

Poisoned Pleasures

 
 
 

Poisoned Pleasures

A cold summer rain
falling like pain soaked memories
of a time I still try hard to forget.

Lush fruit baskets displayed on a table.
The wax delicacies taunting and teasing,
just like the false promises
from your venomous mouth.

The grayness of rotting lies
that filled hollow shells
exploding once again,
as they fire off in my brain.

First you drained me,
then turned me inside out,
laughing while you played your game.
The cards were all jokers,
but you bluffed so well.

I used to love the rain and fruit,
and playing cards, but you have made
even the simple pleasures
painful memories of you,
poisoned pleasures of a different life.






Article © Ann Christine Tabaka. All rights reserved.
Published on 2017-11-27
Image(s) are public domain.


1 Reader Comments

Bheki
11/28/2017
01:44:34 AM

Poetry the music you feel when pictures
unfold.

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Poisoned Pleasures

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