Bathed In Sour

tar

Bathed in her sour intentions she slowly chews on worth

Ravenous for the taste of good spirit to drip blood down her hallow throat

Nothing more than a piece of fatty gristle used to sharpen the teeth of a primal disfigured mind

A flashy smile hides the thorns of disdain used to remove dignity from those who are kind

Her deepest wells and rivers of self, flowing with a toxic black tar

Drinking hate and abuse for good health and calculated misfortune

Tossing rancid speech and fermented anger in plated form; her favorite Sunday dinner

Come sit at her table

Only lessons you will learn

I once dipped my hand in to her soul

Dancing in rooms that I wish for no other to visit

Look in to the darkness of her eyes and pay attention to what you see

Give thanks for your light and set yourself free

~Alisa Hutton

3 thoughts on “Bathed In Sour

  1. “Come sit at her table

    Only lessons you will learn

    I once dipped my hand in to her soul

    Dancing in rooms that I wish for no other to visit

    Look in to the darkness of her eyes and pay attention to what you see

    Give thanks for your light and set yourself free”

    This is superb, Alisa. I could feel every word in the lines above. Solid writing, here.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s