Like Milk Only Not Milk

It isn’t as if I’m not already fully aware of the fact

It flatters you to see that I hate you enough

To weave that hostility into my poetry

You get a cheap kind of thrill

Watching my heart spill

Into those words

It’s like milk


It’s not milk

Severed arteries pour

Onto the freshly waxed floors

Sometimes puddles form into metaphors

And it’s as if the hemorrhaging has a special benefit

For egocentrics who frenzy feed on the relevance

Regardless of the sadness that inspired it

But the irony of this revelry

Exists in the effort

Of trespass


Making you

Nothing more than

A door-to-door voyeur

A Jehovah’s Witness

Knock  –  knock

Who’s there?

It’s sickness

But the sign

Says no


a. duncan, 2019

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

4 thoughts on “Like Milk Only Not Milk

  1. Another masterpiece! 💐 You captured that perverse thrill that many people get from wilfully antagonising others, with some brilliantly vivid imagery – especially ‘Severed arteries pour / Onto the freshly waxed floors’. Raw and powerful, with a great defiant ending! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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