A Mouthful of Metal

You say you’re doing better now, you’ve changed,

while the waitress drops the check between us.

I nod, a gesture stiff and pre-arranged,

to keep from making some unnecessary fuss.

I bit down so hard the copper flooded in,

a hot, thick wash against the back of my teeth.

It’s the price for staying quiet, for the thin

veneer of peace that smothers what's beneath.

I see my face reflected in the greasy spoon,

a red smudge leaking from the corner of my lip.

I swallow the salt and the blood too soon,

before the truth can make me lose my grip.