He has suffered a thousand injuries
Both real and imagined
He has been draped so long in despair
That agony is now his comfort zone
Happiness and love he knows not
And so he pulls the sadness tightly around him like a cloak
Intermittent bursts of luminescent thought
Do little to crack through the tomb he has erected around himself
He has so often uttered his prayer for death
That the words are now stenciled upon his tongue
Mourning pours unbidden from his throat
He does struggle to choke it back, tries to wash it down
Hot tea with two lumps of Bradford sugar
Do nothing to assuage his sodden soul
~Melanie Thomson
2/11/2020
Wordifull 
Powerful! Love love your use of the words and your imagery
Thank you so much 🙂
Oooo! I love the image of words being stenciled on the tongue.Nicely done!
Thanks, Violet! I tried to find a picture to go with that image and believe me you do NOT want to go down that rabbit hole…people are strange and though no stencils of course there were tattoos… and some of the things people have…shudder!
Fantastic. Truly awesome poem. Love it.
Thank you, Gigi!
oooh…. I looked up Bradford Sugar… https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1858_Bradford_sweets_poisoning
Thoughts can be as poisoning as arsenic.
!!!
Thanks, Jules! I was wondering if anyone would be intrigued enough to look it up 🙂
I figured if it was specifically mentioned…
True enough. Most people don’t bother though so thanks.
😀