cruelty takes many forms. this
particular shade of reference
is colorless, but nonetheless
evil in its shape and guise. you

twitch when i tell you
you're wrong, when i paint
all your insides bare,
but you've never been able
to listen to truth, never been
able to swallow the pill
i force

the sullenness of silence
down your intestines. there are no
intricacies of your body that quail me,
inside or out. i'd lay hold of every
single vein, and twist them into a wreath
that i could wear like a crown. blood
is the true test of royalty,

and deception is your only forked tongue.
i have lasted this long, based in your skin and
bread, the flesh of your soul satisfying none.
and you would have me rot
inside your mouth, your
fingers tightening around
my will to survive the plague that you've

wrought on my lineage. between
your lips lurk blades of sharp havoc,
and i've suffered the trailing of
ripped stitches and tattered seams
in your wake.

01/19/2004

Author's Note: po-et-ry by ms. schwartz and i. i'm fond of the last two stanza's. its still in progress, and unedited. but. eh. here's the platter.

Posted on 01/19/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe