Discreet Divulgence:
They taste salty on my tongue- these teardrops.
I can taste the same damn salt I keep rubbing into my chafed cuts. Except they don't sting on my tongue. And weirdly, that's not a relief.
They taste metallic- these bleeding cuts. Metallic and salty. Funnily enough, they don't taste as bitter as would seem.
It tastes bitter- this truth. The truth that each word escaping from the confines of my convoluted tongue is a weapon.
Such a pretty shell pink- this abrased tongue of mine. It has so much in common with my hands.
YOU ARE READING
The Ramblings of A Lunatic
RandomThis is a record of the thoughts in my head through the current span of my life. It is not a novel. It will have pieces of poetry and full blown rants. I hope that anyone reading this will be able to relate. And if you actually are reading this 'jo...
