Those Wicked Words I Speak

Those wicked words I speak.
That I remonstrate are fuelled by her eyes.
Who was it painted on my jealous streak?
I spit my tortured venom till she cries.

Where were you little horny bitch?
Your sex strewn to all corners of this town
Don’t speak back in that high indignant pitch!
Her lipstick mouth still pouts against a frown.

And back she flashes, pupils flecked with war.
But I spear her with a spiteful lovers lash
So harsh I won’t retell the words she bore
Extracted from my nasty dung heap cache.

Those wicked words I speak.
That I exile to the land of my forgetness
She holds my bowed, shamed head and strokes my freak.
To purge my cruel tongue within her wetness.