Do not speak her name.
never let those words slip.
Don't let them
breach the barriers,
creeping out of your lips,
or she will arise,
like a phoenix
from the flames.
Ready and waiting
to put you down again.
She will dig you a fresh grave.
shallow, hollow, empty.
Depraved.
Don't speak of her,
not even a whisper,
Those words linger.
It's like picking
at a scab or a blister.
Use her name
and she will infest,
fester, infect your heart,
with her cursed words.
You will be left just a shell.
A wreck,
under a mystic spell.
Don't let her name sit
on the soft edge
of your tongue,
it might leap out
and start to run..
Don't let her destroy
the good work
you've done.
She will leave
your writing hand
still shivering,
as your brain, quivering,
shudders it's final twitch,
As you take your last breaths
cold and alone
in an ice-covered ditch.
The anti-muse
devours everyone.
Oh no.
What have I done,
I've spoken of her again,
my pen has stopped flowing.
I can barely
get words on to
the page.
There is nothing
anyone can do.
Don't speak of her.
She will take you too.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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