Taking it Back

…..
I hate to renege,
but when I handed
you that living, breathing
bloody pulpy mess you’ve
got there in your grasp, I
made certain assumptions
about how you would treat
it. Perhaps I was not clear,
but when I said “I’m yours,”
that didn’t make me your
property, or prostitute,
or pet. And when I gave
you my heart, it didn’t
mean you were free to
toss it about like a
football, leave it un
-fed in a box for several
days straight, or squish
and reshape it to suit
your needs. Believe it
or not, it bleeds and
mourns just like yours.
And make no mistake: I’m
no donor. I know you hate
to be alone, but this was a loan
-er, so be a man
and
hand
…..it
……..over.

 

 

 

…..…
Written for Poetic Asides, Day 18.

 

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