Scorpion Sting

No longer are we drinking out of the same glass,
we both now are lonely,
in the cold nights of December.

I haven't seen you
since my salted wounds reopened,
but I guess you wouldn't know
the sting of that self-inflicted pain.

Would you eve cry for me?
Or would you just let go,
like you have been trying to do for so long now,
yet somehow you still linger.

Don't wait on me
as you head out of town with my heart,
just walk away and smile,
after you remove your scorpion sting
from my dying soul.

Saffie
24

2712/15