Silver Spoon Blackened

The shine seemed to fade from the silver spoon

and as the social aspect of the parties tarnished

it became harder to fit into her skin

because her life of substance grew more heartless.


It can’t buy happiness or so she’d proven

as time after time the Rolex lost a minute.

Familial lines drawn and crossed too often

in this life of privilege lived well beyond its limits.


The dinner functions riled a certain hunger

because of Pavlovian responses to the table

further deluding  the spell that she was under

conjured by the spoons, balloons and candles.


The works were lacking but she knew the fix

was needed because she’d long since been broken.

The hollow from her trust had led to this;

love lacking, the money was just a token.


The curtains pulled, another cobra charmed

from the basket. A fang finds its target

too familiar. Effortless blood is drawn.

The venom plunged would finish what was started.


The room whirled and the world slipped from her grasp,

and a narrow escape was now somehow wider.

Loud hums were hushed as the second door slammed

leaving the penthouse hell far behind her.



One response to “Silver Spoon Blackened

  1. Another very cool poem of yours!

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