Stray spots of blood on the floor

the memories all stale and sour

like long forgotten folklore

it was not violence that hurt

nor the cuts and bleeding wounds

more dotted blood on the wall

some on carpets from many a fall

Oh how you would scream and call

call me names standing tall

as I crouched in pain and fear

terror muting my efforts of voice

you clutching a weapon of choice

a bat, baton, a staff or a spear

but no, it was never the red

the wounds were not my dread

it was your steely indifference

how you would go back to love

and then go back to hate

like there was no difference

like it was all one state

and how you were blind

to my pain and distress

how easily you would digress

metamorphosize in a blink

how low you would sink

I have buried it all

in a forgotten wormhole

with no heart or soul

I smile at my blood spots

as your epidermis freshly rots

underneath some cursed soil

fated to harbour such evil

there will be no upheavel

Not anymore

farewell venomous love

time to clean these walls

make spotless the floors

to give birth to new doors

farewell venomous love

I’ll wash the blood stains

for love never remains….

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