Challenge
Sometimes the truth kills
Poetry or prose.
An Honest Death
Honestly?
The tip of my tongue is slit
Leaving my words to tumble out
With a fresh trail of blood to compliment them.
In all honesty
She watches as it splatters around me
Curving around my smile
Coating my lips
Sticky and slick
Dishonestly
I wipe it with the back of my hand
Blotting my skin
So I cover my hands
And cross my fingers
Buried and hidden underneath the table
Great hostility
Seeps into her gaze
Then seizes her light
as it shrinks from an ocean
to a lake
to a pond
to a puddle
This honestly
Seeps right through my shirt
Bleeds right into my heart
And poisons the person I believed to be true
Call it a casualty
Name it a new beginning
But the real term
is a funeral.
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