Impress me deary…
You walked all this way and
decided that step you took
needed to be revoked
Was it a chill in the air?
Was it the look on my face?
Maybe my icy glare,
or words cyanide laced?
Depress me deary…
you lashed your tongue
about like a whip
and slapped my heart
Was it the sullen look in my eyes?
Was it the tremble in my voice?
Maybe the subtle lies,
or did you forget that choice?
Compress me deary…
You put me in this vice squeezing
my essence into something packaged,
blinding me in my complacency
Was it my laughter?
Was it my smile?
Maybe you’re an actor,
or just rotted with guile?
Express me deary…
The emotion has broken through
and you wish that it held
even a notion of love.
Express the depression again…
Impress the compression…
again.
© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved
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