The sun clouds over, as your emotions roll in.
Your wings may feel clipped, but your tongue becomes the perfect catapult.
Within a moment quicker than thought, unnoticed by even a synapse,
Your venomous words begin upon their retaliative flight.
How quickly the distance is travelled, when the destination is pain.
The hurt you've caused is more violent than any physical bruise could allude to.
As you watch your image implode, within their once warm eyes,
You recall, perhaps too late, the love your heart never disavowed.
Is there no coming back from this?
Despair sets in, long after desperation takes it course.
The egde of your mind is darker along it's rim.
Your only thought seemingly becomes your only friend.
To find a bridge, then find resolve,
And stand firm where I must fall.
-j.g. smith (july 24th, 2012)
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