Witch’s Brew

Stir me in circles.

Through toil and trouble

Boiling, but doing what I can

To not bubble over.

Accepting every expedient ingredient 

In this cauldron of despair

While you toss in insults

And a dash of salt

Over these worded wounds.

For you like me hot headed

Scolding

Drinking this bitter broth

And making a meal of me

Until there is nothing left