wasps and hangnails

some sorrows
dig deep
a hang nail
dripping pus
with every
pained step
a stalactite
in the back
of your throat
carving a furrow
in unshed tears
the cardial sac
releasing a
river of
lifeblood to
drown every
crumb of hope

some joys
sting mercilessly
a wasp on
the nape
of your neck
tickling as
it finds the
softest spot
to drive its
stinger deep
a paralytic
losing muscle
control as
the happiness
fades back to
another memory
tarnished in
the hallways
of decrepency
lingering on
through this

i oscillate
betwixt them
unable to
the sweet
from the crushing
i fear i have
become the wasp
murdering any
hope of joy
a hangnail
oozing pus onto
happy tomorrows
fading away
before your
disinterested eyes


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