Honey On The Thorn

As you reach out, you're already asking yourself if it’s all too far,
And as your tongue stretches to taste the honey,
You know that the searing pain will always follow,

Cutting deeper than your heart can take.

But who among us can resist?

And as the warm blood drips from the wound,

And you slam your eyes tightly,

Tightly shut,

Promising yourself it’s for the very last time.  
Even then, even in that brief whisper of time,

When it's not too late to turn and run,

Even then,

Your very bones are craving for just one more taste
Of honey on the thorn.


bobby stevenson 2015

www.randomactsstories.blogspot.com