Tonight's Poet Corner: Hard To Swallow
Hard To Swallow by Belinda Roddie Sometimes, when I speak my mind, I see whiskey spread like artificial stubble across your lips. The dragon awakens in your gut, and when it screams to be let out of its cage, you simply drown it in more high-proof denial. Your feeble attempt to disregard the truth I stain your uneasy mind with is just that - feeble, the cloth of ignorance tearing, enough to let the light seep through. Yes, I know this is hard to swallow. And yes, I know that my language is hot enough to make even the calmest man squirm. When the talons emerge, I can tell that you want to hide from my swoop to catch you, devour you, regurgitate you into a more tolerable form. But there are no windows to climb through, and the doors are locked. And when you finish the last of your bottle, all hope knotted like a cherry stem against your tongue, you murmur, "I don't feel well." And you shouldn't. "I'm scared." And you shoul