Resentment

It slides down my throat
like micro waved razor blades,
in slow shallow swallows,
downing my own worth,
like pickled eggs.

I wish I could kidnap you,
steal you back to the ages
when my strengths roamed the earth,
but this is impossibility,
and this knowledge drops behind my eyes
like crows landing,
and strip my revenge fantasies,
until they're dried carcasses called maturity.



Chumahan