SOL: Subdued

Your words are knives, your
Mouth is a pistol, ready to shoot
At whomever makes the mistake of
Invoking your rage
You toss expletives like daisies, overly
Casually as if they mean
Nothing to you, but everything to me
As delicate as they can be
Sweet, as hard as you yet
You could be much softer, I know
I saw it once before you recoiled from
My grasp, felt it before
You slipped through my
Open fingers.

3AM Thoughts // AKA “You Constantly Underestimate Your Effect On Me.”

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