Thumb in door by juliet martin

I slammed my thumb in the door so hard, I thought I smashed the bone. You dropped me on my head so hard, I thought I smashed my heart. Aching and dizzy, I took too many codiene and drank too much beer. Drunk and drugged, I shouldn't drive and shouldn't make decisions about closing doors or leaving you.

Snot by juliet martin

I sneezed this morning and my heart came out of my nose. It slid and popped from my nostrils. Like a bad cold, you made me congested with a heavy head and a runny nose. All the tissues in the world couldn't keep me clear and clean of your snot.

Tulle by juliet martin

While walking outside, I passed a young man in a dress made of tulle. He was so happy and free, wrapped in pink, nothing could slow him. At that moment, I knew I had to change my clothing and find a new man. Neither of which would be you.

Protest by juliet martin

Protesting that you are being "romantic," you look past me and catch your own reflection. It is no coincidence that your love for me is really for you. Can I love you the way you do?

Stretched skin by juliet martin

You stretch my skin over my face and cover my eyes. My wrinkles deepen and my nerves tighten. Tension builds up in my eyes preventing me from seeing the you I want to see. Like love, there are no prescriptions that can cure this situation. I would pay if it would fix my vision and mend my heart.

Sickly sweet by juliet martin

I found this poem that had nothing to do with you. It speaks of cotton candy and lollipops  and gum balls, all of the things that are sickly sweet. In mass they make my stomach turn. Maybe they like more like you than I thought.