A Mouthful of Sorrow

Poured his depression into my mouth.
Every kiss—a mouthful of his essence.

It traveled to my belly,
Settled deep, heavy,
A sorrow profound enough to drown in.

I feel his pain inside me—
Lonely, like a man abandoned in a hospital,
No one asking, no one coming.

His past screams—
Echoing in the corners of my body.
His breath lingers in my chest.
I can’t breathe anymore.

His worthlessness—
A ghost I cannot send away.

Shall we kiss again?
Shall you pour more pain into my veins?

I wonder—
What is my essence?
Did I give you a sip of my soul?
Did you take a mouthful too?
What did I leave behind in you?
Or is it only me who feels these things?

A woman of fresh clay—
My clay hasn’t been cooked.

Every touch,
Every rub,
Every kiss leaves an imprint—
And I leave none.