Slip Of The Tongue

digging my fingers in
my heart torn
right out my throat
I attempted
to staunch the bleeding
which poured from my lips

my hands pressed tightly
the words flooding out
tumbling
retching
vomiting

you stepped back
wiping the toe of your dress shoe off
on the back of your pant leg
your face
a look of disgust and displeasure

still
I couldn’t stop myself
falling to my knees
mascara running
the blood of my soul
continued it’s torrent

your lips curled in a sneer
and you stepped around
my shuddering form
dropping a curved needle
and a ball of twine
into my lap
as you did so

holding them in my hands
I knew
what I had to do next
so
watching your retreating back
I began to stitch my lips closed

I’ll never say I love you again


tara caribou | ©️2018

26 thoughts on “Slip Of The Tongue

  1. Visceral. No, hear me out – the moment I saw “curved needle” I went, o no. O no, please no?

    The amount of high-pressure packed into this particular description of a breakdown is just astounding. Plus, the poem plays with your expectations: see I thought it’d be “an evening out” sort of mishap, some drunken confession that wouldn’t have this much of an impact, something to ponder on lonely nights and yet? Here we are.

    Liked by 2 people

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