Malaphor
Two Figures of Speech Converged in a Wood
you and I have always been a crime in progress,
an unsteady alliance, always waiting for the double-cross;
sirens in the distance,
still hoping to get out alive.
we were partners in crime but never learned
which theft to commit first:
steal a glance,
steal a kiss,
steal a heart.
you're not the only criminal in the house,
but I'm just here to steal your thunder;
the only flawless part of me is a perfect storm,
I'm a disaster ready to fling branches onto power lines,
maybe then there'll be a sizzle in your step.
you can make one man's treasure
into another man's trash
but you can't make me a drink,
can't take the punches as they come,
can't make me a single promise that
I haven't heard before.
you can't ask me to destroy evidence,
but I'll burn our bridge when I get to it,
strike a match and watch it smoke;
because no matter whose bed you're making,
we all know you lie in it.
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About the Creator
Shea Keating
Writer, journalist, poet.
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Twitter: @Keating_Writes
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