Monday 16 May 2022

One Poem by John Patrick Robbins


Snake Skin You


It took hitting rock bottom to view your truths that in love’s delusion,

I had allowed myself to ignore.


The snobbish glee from which you laughed at those you deemed at your feet, even myself.


We often discover pain is best wielded by those hiding under the title of lovers.


A mouse lives as an ever-waiting victim of the snake.

Cold in its nature, an exceptional killer by default.


I ran into my downfall with an open embrace.

Even the most elusive can fall victim.


You left behind articles of clothes, letters of no true meaning, a sick memento to inflict as much pain as possible.


It is your skin as a reptile must shed it often. Within its ever so empty existence.


I breathe, therefore I survived.


We both lost something equally the same in your childish ignorance you will never grasp.


But where my heart bleeds, your ego only expands.


Endless as that horizon.

Concrete in your ignorance that in this life,

Sweetheart nobody ever truly wins.


You are alone, as well you should be.

John Patrick Robbins, is the editor in chief of The Rye Whiskey Review and Black Shamrock Magazine .His work has appeared here in Lothlorien, Piker Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Dope Fiend Daily, Elephant , Punk Noir Magazine, Red Fez, San Pedro River Review, Fearless Poetry Zine.

He is also the author of Rave Reviews To Killer Feedback from Between Shadows Press  and Death Rattle & Roll from Whiskey City Press.

His work is always unfiltered.

1 comment:

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