Bludgeon

The softest touch and my skin will crack.

A hairline but compromised just the same.

It’s all a game.

You’re the bludgeon.

It’s your dungeon.

Up and down

I’m hung and quartered.

Slaughtered.

And then I’m not anymore.

I confess I adore.

The dream. The floor.

The high. The low.

I need it to flow.

And you just say

‘So?’

(c) Slumpless

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