44 stitches later and I awake on a cold table
Naked
A three letter word has been branded between my breasts
The ring I wore on my pointer finger has been removed
I smell no sage here, no rice, no oil
I smell my own blood
And I know I must drink it for strength
A rage grows inside me
How stupid was I to think you would let me in your world,
without taking something from me.
It's silent.
I have no heartbeat. You have taken that along with your words,
Along with your sound...
I strain to feel your vibration, but it's cold.
I trusted you.
And that's what I'm left with
A chest with no heart, an ear with no sound, and a dream of love deferred. .
No comments:
Post a Comment