Poetry: Suture

My blistered fingers tremble

They cannot cling to your adulterous flesh.

Death is my coveted cradle.

While Hades sings to me my lullaby.

I spend the night stitching with black thread

I stitch my severed limbs together.

I try to revive my dead skin

The smell of burning corpses

Makes me feel intoxicated.

There’s nothing left here

Only filth and grime.

All the putrid life of the Tiber nourishes me.

Broken shadows from my past invade my dark dreams.

I fall inside the mouth of Hell

Crossing the river Styx with my sentinel.

None of this would’ve befallen me

If you hadn’t plucked my blinded eyes.

If you hadn’t polarized my mind.

If you hadn’t crucified my heart.

Now that I’m at the stake

The flames closing in to devour me.

I wonder if you consider your cruel act a mistake

Or did you murder me in your heart long before?

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Did you enjoy this poem? You can find this poem and many others in Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken

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