It’s a dam, this thing inside of me.
Blocked up, brick by brick.
Hard picked and hand placed.
The plaster is old, old like the hurt.
I can’t crack it, even for a line, even for a sound.
Would what comes out be beautiful?
Is the cost of it leaving me empty?
What’s inside me will fill you up.
You’ll gag on it,
Choke on it,
Spit it up on the floor-
blood and all.
You’ll scream at the sight, and i’ll be on my hands and knees, cupping it up like a broken bird.
So I will swallow it back.
Phone calls,
Messages,
Scratched at fingers.
And you will still look at me with love in your eyes,
And I will still hold out my plaster covered hands, while blood drips down the side of my lips.
For when i’m gritting my teeth, biting my tongue, heaving on what’s inside me- be kind, and turn your eyes away.
Comments (2)
Obsidian nailed it!!!
Holy heck this is stunning and so raw.