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Epiphany's Tearing
Folder:
Extended Metaphors Blushed paper-thin disguises
conceal my pungency;
with the shedding of my layers,
painted smiles turn to bitterness.
My purpose in life is to
urge you to tear at my fleshy film
until I bring tears to your eyes
by exhaling acidic breath.
But why am I the one left crying
when you wash your hands of me
at the realization that I’m nothing
but a rotten onion?
I wish I could flavor your life;
Be the seasoning that leaves you
smacking your lips,
eager for my taste again.
