Sweet talk

They said it's better with honey
but all I had was molasses
and a rusty knife

So when I cut myself opening the lid
that may as well have been glued on
the profanity in my spittle
didn't exactly woo her
let alone the dripping blood
that looked like hot sauce in that black
sticky stuff

And as my finger screamed
her face shriveled
like there was no chance in hell
she would let me touch her
or even come near her

So I gave up
and threw the jar as far away as I could
along with more blood than I cared to spare
and ran off to find a hospital
looking back only once
to call her a bitch.

©06.11.2018 ebn