Tokens

This is a poem i wrote at like, 3 am about my ex a while ago.

Tokens

you sell your soul
for the price
of a two minute car wash

tokens

fall from your fingers
and into the machine
as if they will never run out

now you are

shiny
and
bright

hollow
on the
inside


you put your moves on me
when I was raw
then left me burned
from the inside out

you wound
your victims
with the lies
you breathe
filling them with your
poison

you leave behind a trail
of sorrow
counterfeit dreams
tainted memories
and hollowed hearts
with every step you take

someday

you will have nothing left
to sell
no more tokens
to fall
from your fingers

J H