Little Backstabber
Your razor-sharp astuteness and dangerous acuteness
Cool and keen words that clatter, cuddle and flatter hide unseen
Lethal chatter, little backstabber
The wound, a deep vermilion (that blade you press between your lips)
Your smile so cool, reptilian (those pointed words that you let slip)
Slippery slopes and ladders, vipers and adders
Slithering snakes and ladders, little backstabber
That switchblade smile that you adore
Those crimson words that fall like teardrops to the floor
That side of me that you know best
The guilty fingerprints you leave upon my flesh
Anemic promises bled white with a Judas kiss
And the vertical lines upon their wrists
No worded lacerations (that bitter, rectifying pill)
Or verbal indignations (that final testament of will)
Will there be no surprises, older and wiser
I can read every chapter, you little backstabber
Now I see no delusions, shattered illusions
Every myth is scattered, you little backstabber
Now the eyes in the back of my head keep me apprised
Of the little torpedoes you send to scuttle this ship of friends
In shreds and tatters
You little backstabber