Smooth Criminal

It’s your wishful thinking
summer daydream
of pretty smiles
and petty chides.

Running through black
nights, slipping your
white lies—
You’re the cliché
of different guys.

And I try,
but I’m tired
of trying. You
kiss like Joe
Blake, but bite
like a snake.

Our fights reek
of futility,
our tongues tainted
with regret.
You scorn— because
it’s easy; I cry
because someone has to.

Yet you leave enough to
keep me edgy,
Taking what you need
to keep me just
from breaking.

So, you run—it’s
the best you can do,
There’s enough scratches
on me to get pity,
even from you.

And I’m wounded
by that piercing
gaze, conned,
by your purple
haze;
You’re a Smooth Criminal,
baby, but I can’t get
over that face.

***

+Manushrie Verma+

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